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 Jordan and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Almond to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
The Durutti Column,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bad Manners,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Style,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fuzztones,
Mantronix,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms,
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
Tres Demented,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler,
Andrew Hill,
Colin Newman,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
JFA,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
Flipper,
Brand Nubian,
Masters at Work,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drexciya,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scion,
Rosa Yemen,
The Evens,
The Victims,
Nik Kershaw,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Michelle Simonal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
Rapeman,
B.T. Express,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Los Fastidios,
The Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.