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 Afghanistan and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Warsaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pole,
The Five Americans,
Swell Maps,
Young Marble Giants,
Barrington Levy,
B.T. Express,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers,
Hashim,
Tubeway Army,
The Skatalites,
Donny Hathaway,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Alison Limerick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Half Japanese,
The Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
KRS-One,
Todd Terry,
Marc Almond,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pierre Henry,
Adolescents,
Flash Fearless,
Roxette,
The Music Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
OOIOO,
Kaleidoscope,
L. Decosne,
Marmalade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed,
The Real Kids,
Fear,
a-ha,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Bush Tetras,
Clear Light,
Althea and Donna,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.