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 China and from New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Flesh Eaters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
The Smoke,
Jandek,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Model 500,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ice-T,
The Motions,
The Techniques,
Eve St. Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Star Department,
LL Cool J,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Banda Bassotti,
Section 25,
Scion,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fugs,
Aaron Thompson,
L. Decosne,
Patti Smith,
Subhumans,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris & Cosey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Wings,
The Victims,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Modern Lovers,
Procol Harum,
Godley & Creme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric Copeland,
Flash Fearless,
Gong,
Minor Threat,
The Standells,
The Litter,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Cymande,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Davy DMX,
Y Pants,
Dawn Penn,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.