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 Bahamas and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Rundgren,
Dark Day,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
James White and The Blacks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
Marine Girls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Interpol,
Peter and Kerry,
Basic Channel,
Brass Construction,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Normal,
The Skatalites,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rakim,
Sixth Finger,
Tres Demented,
Supertramp,
Trumans Water,
Easy Going,
Y Pants,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Drexciya,
Heaven 17,
The Smiths,
John Holt,
The Black Dice,
Alison Limerick,
MC5,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roger Hodgson,
Cluster,
Crash Course in Science,
Rod Modell,
B.T. Express,
The Toasters,
Half Japanese,
Gabor Szabo,
Motorama,
Piero Umiliani,
Youth Brigade,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.