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 Namibia and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 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 The Golliwogs to the punk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Jeff Lynne,
Magma,
10cc,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Bad Manners,
Tommy Roe,
Mad Mike,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Gang Green,
Agent Orange,
Robert Görl,
Brand Nubian,
Erykah Badu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Section 25,
The Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
The Fire Engines,
Amon Düül,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Das Ding,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Ponytail,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Theoretical Girls,
Whodini,
The Index,
Cymande,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Martian,
Monks,
The Remains,
Flipper,
PIL,
Crispian St. Peters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Durutti Column,
Y Pants,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
The Dead C,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barbara Tucker,
The Music Machine,
Tom Boy,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.