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 Syria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Janne Schatter to the funk 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Blossom Toes,
Gang of Four,
Cymande,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cramps,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Smog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harry Pussy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Livin' Joy,
Cal Tjader,
Soulsonic Force,
Simply Red,
Minnie Riperton,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Half Japanese,
Nico,
Section 25,
The Red Krayola,
The Residents,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier,
Black Flag,
Interpol,
OOIOO,
Cybotron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skarface,
Pylon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gong,
The Victims,
Erykah Badu,
Sun Ra,
Grey Daturas,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
The Names,
New York Dolls,
Youth Brigade,
Lakeside,
Darondo,
UT,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
The Vogues,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Swell Maps,
Ludus,
The Five Americans,
Kaleidoscope,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Neon Judgement,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.