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 Senegal and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Suburban Knight to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
Michelle Simonal,
T.S.O.L.,
Can,
LL Cool J,
Soft Machine,
The Moody Blues,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Neon Judgement,
Joey Negro,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wally Richardson,
Lungfish,
Oneida,
The Dead C,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Inner City,
Fear,
Nas,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pretty Things,
Cybotron,
Marvin Gaye,
Grauzone,
Arcadia,
Hoover,
The Invisible,
Mission of Burma,
Tom Boy,
Brothers Johnson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deepchord,
Flash Fearless,
The Tremeloes,
The Residents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Sherman,
Ice-T,
Crash Course in Science,
the Swans,
Amon Düül II,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
China Crisis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Duran Duran,
Brass Construction,
Stetsasonic,
the Human League,
The Divine Comedy,
Maleditus Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Patti Smith,
Simply Red,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.