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 Bhutan and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Neil Young to the punk 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Basic Channel,
The Trojans,
OOIOO,
The Golliwogs,
Judy Mowatt,
The United States of America,
The Cure,
Roxy Music,
Panda Bear,
MC5,
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
Charles Mingus,
The Gap Band,
The Vogues,
48th St. Collective,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Yusef Lateef,
The Modern Lovers,
Hasil Adkins,
Tres Demented,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Durutti Column,
Letta Mbulu,
Essential Logic,
Guru Guru,
AZ,
The Names,
Carl Craig,
Fatback Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Nirvana,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy Collins,
Mark Hollis,
Nils Olav,
The Searchers,
Second Layer,
X-Ray Spex,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moleskins,
Tim Buckley,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick Morgan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Archie Shepp,
Sam Rivers,
Skarface,
Dark Day,
Marmalade,
The Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.