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 Cameroon and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Detroit Cobras to the disco 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Black Moon,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cybotron,
Bush Tetras,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Marine Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Gong,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
Bauhaus,
Fluxion,
Panda Bear,
Fatback Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Half Japanese,
Tres Demented,
Glenn Branca,
cv313,
ABBA,
John Lydon,
The Kinks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Niagra,
The Moleskins,
Desert Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moebius,
Urselle,
The Fugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Robert Hood,
Junior Murvin,
Eli Mardock,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Magma,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
DJ Style,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deadbeat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joey Negro,
EPMD,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.