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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bill Wells to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kerri Chandler,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sandy B,
Funky Four + One,
Bronski Beat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sound Behaviour,
Joey Negro,
Minnie Riperton,
Yazoo,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Michelle Simonal,
The Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Smog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lalann,
Subhumans,
The Gories,
Sight & Sound,
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harmonia,
Arcadia,
Warsaw,
Monolake,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
Arthur Verocai,
Agent Orange,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Fela Kuti,
Interpol,
Sparks,
World's Most,
Grauzone,
Black Moon,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
Deepchord,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jerry's Kids,
Hoover,
The Cure,
Howard Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nico,
Minny Pops,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel.
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.