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 Uganda and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Roxette to the grunge 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Shuggie Otis,
The Index,
X-101,
Arab on Radar,
Laurel Aitken,
Ponytail,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terry Callier,
Public Enemy,
La Düsseldorf,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
Oblivians,
The Blackbyrds,
Metal Thangz,
Deepchord,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bush Tetras,
Boredoms,
Sonic Youth,
Groovy Waters,
Pole,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T. Rex,
The Martian,
Zapp,
Ronan,
Yaz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nils Olav,
The Gladiators,
Can,
The Motions,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Wells,
The Wake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skaos,
Barry Ungar,
Black Pus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Interpol,
Barclay James Harvest,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.