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 Mozambique and from Lagos.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 a-ha to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Letta Mbulu,
Funky Four + One,
The Pop Group,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Leaves,
Flash Fearless,
Piero Umiliani,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
Gong,
Zero Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
The Busters,
Sällskapet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun City Girls,
The Slits,
DJ Sneak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radio Birdman,
The Fortunes,
China Crisis,
Kerri Chandler,
The Wake,
Josef K,
Jeff Mills,
Yellowson,
Mad Mike,
Lou Christie,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pagans,
Eric Dolphy,
Eddi Front,
Colin Newman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Grass Roots,
DNA,
Inner City,
Graham Central Station,
The Last Poets,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Average White Band,
The Golliwogs,
Crime,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Kas Product,
Gichy Dan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minny Pops,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
Bobby Sherman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
Circle Jerks,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.