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 Maldives and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 Banda Bassotti to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
New Age Steppers,
Supertramp,
Arab on Radar,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erykah Badu,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
A Certain Ratio,
Ken Boothe,
Pagans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minor Threat,
Wings,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blackbyrds,
Connie Case,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Cymande,
Steve Hackett,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra,
Desert Stars,
The Searchers,
Crispy Ambulance,
June Days,
Alton Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Essential Logic,
The Moleskins,
Moss Icon,
The Gap Band,
The Vogues,
Todd Terry,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry's Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
Boz Scaggs,
Magma,
The Seeds,
The Barracudas,
Robert Görl,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
The Beau Brummels,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Coltrane,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.