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 Peru and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Q65 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
the Slits,
Severed Heads,
Throbbing Gristle,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pulsallama,
Scrapy,
Desert Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry's Kids,
Suicide,
Dead Boys,
The Toasters,
Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed,
Prince Buster,
Franke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Unwound,
The Young Rascals,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Newcleus,
Minny Pops,
Nirvana,
Los Fastidios,
kango's stein massive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Banda Bassotti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Amon Düül,
Bang On A Can,
Grauzone,
Sandy B,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sex Pistols,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Vogues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker,
Blancmange,
Heaven 17,
Pylon,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
Swell Maps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Remains,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.