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 Seychelles and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Letta Mbulu to the jazz 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Suburban Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Livin' Joy,
Eli Mardock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
The Dead C,
Minny Pops,
Brand Nubian,
L. Decosne,
Don Cherry,
Echospace,
Country Teasers,
Robert Görl,
Pierre Henry,
Bauhaus,
Slave,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Matthew Bourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Lynne,
Crooked Eye,
B.T. Express,
The Litter,
F. McDonald,
The Fuzztones,
Lyres,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cramps,
Quando Quango,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
The Selecter,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
The Slits,
Loose Ends,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Sherman,
Funky Four + One,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eden Ahbez,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
Gil Scott Heron,
Das Ding,
Lakeside,
The Associates,
The Index,
Agitation Free,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.