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 Uganda 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gabor Szabo to the funk 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 Association. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Arthur Verocai,
The Skatalites,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cybotron,
Bang On A Can,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
The Saints,
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare,
Heaven 17,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Moebius,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eden Ahbez,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Sherman,
Second Layer,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Womack,
The Toasters,
Minnie Riperton,
Cymande,
Zero Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Hashim,
Oblivians,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
Unwound,
Oneida,
Marine Girls,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
Anakelly,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
Surgeon,
Yazoo,
The Golliwogs,
The Fortunes,
June Days,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alison Limerick,
Buzzcocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
AZ,
Monolake,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.