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 Andorra and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Ohio Players,
Brick,
The Human League,
Marvin Gaye,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
Rakim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Certain Ratio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Toni Rubio,
Siglo XX,
Fat Boys,
The Grass Roots,
Liliput,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monochrome Set,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Sparks,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Public Enemy,
Urselle,
Nik Kershaw,
Ituana,
R.M.O.,
Minny Pops,
Idris Muhammad,
Faust,
Sandy B,
Harmonia,
Ultimate Spinach,
Basic Channel,
The Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Camouflage,
Fluxion,
Hot Snakes,
The United States of America,
Fatback Band,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joyce Sims,
Aural Exciters,
the Bar-Kays,
Stiv Bators,
Warsaw,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.