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 Belarus and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Standells to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Scion,
the Germs,
The Stooges,
Shuggie Otis,
Joey Negro,
The Blues Magoos,
Q and Not U,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mr. Review,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Tremeloes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harry Pussy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rapeman,
Sarah Menescal,
Slick Rick,
The Searchers,
Black Sheep,
Ken Boothe,
The Golliwogs,
Das Ding,
Morten Harket,
Rosa Yemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Faust,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Au Pairs,
Gang Starr,
Sex Pistols,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Section 25,
Harmonia,
The Leaves,
Lightning Bolt,
Marc Almond,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Kinks,
Davy DMX,
Derrick Morgan,
Von Mondo,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Los Fastidios,
Bluetip,
Wally Richardson,
Tears for Fears,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
Scratch Acid,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Con Funk Shun,
Franke,
Funky Four + One,
Quantec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.