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 Vietnam 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funkadelic to the techno 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eve St. Jones,
Steve Hackett,
Sugar Minott,
Brass Construction,
Fatback Band,
Crooked Eye,
DJ Style,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
A Certain Ratio,
Roxy Music,
Bronski Beat,
Henry Cow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry's Kids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Motions,
Supertramp,
The Mummies,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronan,
Marc Almond,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
Hoover,
Bauhaus,
Anthony Braxton,
Little Man,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Count Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios,
Althea and Donna,
ABBA,
Grauzone,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pagans,
Blancmange,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
Sam Rivers,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scratch Acid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dark Day,
Duran Duran,
These Immortal Souls,
Subhumans,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.