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 Vanuatu and from Lyon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Knickerbockers 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Roxette,
Gang Starr,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mr. Review,
Ultravox,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bill Near,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Tremeloes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Human League,
Visage,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Trojans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Symarip,
Matthew Halsall,
Subhumans,
Moss Icon,
Michelle Simonal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Lydon,
Eddi Front,
The Durutti Column,
Simply Red,
The Angels of Light,
Albert Ayler,
Pulsallama,
Junior Murvin,
Funkadelic,
Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
Quando Quango,
Interpol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
This Heat,
UT,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bluetip,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ken Boothe,
Blossom Toes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.