Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sierra Leone and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Human League to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
The Last Poets,
The Durutti Column,
The Knickerbockers,
Sex Pistols,
Bang On A Can,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Urselle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bluetip,
Don Cherry,
Public Enemy,
Maleditus Sound,
John Foxx,
Brand Nubian,
Stereo Dub,
Gong,
The Misunderstood,
Cymande,
The Stooges,
Unrelated Segments,
The Red Krayola,
Alton Ellis,
Blake Baxter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
OOIOO,
The Pretty Things,
Funky Four + One,
Tommy Roe,
the Normal,
Silicon Teens,
Sugar Minott,
The Real Kids,
Supertramp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monks,
Lou Reed,
The Kinks,
Gichy Dan,
Aural Exciters,
Roxette,
Lee Hazlewood,
Negative Approach,
Bill Wells,
Deadbeat,
Talk Talk,
Jawbox,
The Saints,
The Grass Roots,
David Axelrod,
The Pop Group,
Mantronix,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Trojans,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.