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 United States 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pantaleimon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Aswad,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fat Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
LL Cool J,
Massinfluence,
Cecil Taylor,
Freddie Wadling,
A Certain Ratio,
Deakin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
Lalann,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Interpol,
Excepter,
Roy Ayers,
Bang On A Can,
Crime,
The Wake,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gichy Dan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Gabor Szabo,
Rosa Yemen,
The Index,
Mad Mike,
Livin' Joy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
Mission of Burma,
Section 25,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Lydon,
Sixth Finger,
Unrelated Segments,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pretty Things,
These Immortal Souls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chris Corsano,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joe Smooth,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.