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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Shuggie Otis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Crime,
June Days,
The Velvet Underground,
Vladislav Delay,
The Searchers,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
Zero Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Simply Red,
Maleditus Sound,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Ice-T,
Jacques Brel,
Carl Craig,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New York Dolls,
D'Angelo,
Eden Ahbez,
cv313,
Fela Kuti,
The Standells,
Tubeway Army,
Tears for Fears,
Derrick Morgan,
The Toasters,
Monolake,
Altered Images,
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Andrew Hill,
Sällskapet,
OOIOO,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare,
F. McDonald,
Main Source,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DJ Style,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
Adolescents,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
Jawbox,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.