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 Australia and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The American Breed to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone 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?
Cymande,
Marmalade,
E-Dancer,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Green,
Monolake,
The Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Essential Logic,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
Fear,
Outsiders,
The Fugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
The Pop Group,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-102,
The Motions,
Malaria!,
a-ha,
Severed Heads,
Siglo XX,
The Count Five,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
New Order,
T.S.O.L.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Henry Cow,
Flash Fearless,
Mary Jane Girls,
The United States of America,
The Index,
Camberwell Now,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
Matthew Bourne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Letta Mbulu,
Visage,
John Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Desert Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
New Age Steppers,
June Days,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.