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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 James White and The Blacks to the disco 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
B.T. Express,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
D'Angelo,
The American Breed,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Harmonia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q and Not U,
Monolake,
Connie Case,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Litter,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Bananas,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
The United States of America,
Al Stewart,
Black Flag,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cramps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lungfish,
Smog,
Lou Christie,
Rakim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deepchord,
John Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magma,
Infiniti,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Theoretical Girls,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy Collins,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.