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 Seychelles and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Don Cherry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wally Richardson,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gories,
Magma,
Second Layer,
Duran Duran,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Saccharine Trust,
Half Japanese,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sound Behaviour,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fortunes,
Cybotron,
Rakim,
Scientists,
Simply Red,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gladiators,
Stereo Dub,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mad Mike,
Glenn Branca,
Rites of Spring,
The Index,
Swell Maps,
Shoche,
The Cowsills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
Janne Schatter,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Martian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bang On A Can,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Deakin,
Gong,
Blake Baxter,
Peter and Kerry,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.