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 Eritrea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fugazi to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Eli Mardock,
Sandy B,
New Age Steppers,
Silicon Teens,
The J.B.'s,
Aaron Thompson,
The Litter,
Roxy Music,
Barry Ungar,
Oblivians,
Bauhaus,
Main Source,
Deakin,
Rosa Yemen,
Alphaville,
The Last Poets,
Joe Finger,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Groovy Waters,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bob Dylan,
Moby Grape,
Scion,
LL Cool J,
Interpol,
The American Breed,
Peter and Kerry,
Brick,
Rapeman,
Ten City,
David Axelrod,
Slave,
Wasted Youth,
Mr. Review,
Circle Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Easy Going,
Khruangbin,
The Misunderstood,
Erasure,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bad Manners,
Boredoms,
Eden Ahbez,
Lindisfarne,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Terry,
Trumans Water,
Boz Scaggs,
Radio Birdman,
The Slits,
The Seeds,
Skriet,
Lungfish,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Half Japanese,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.