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 Philadelphia.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Techniques to the dance 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Buzzcocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yaz,
Main Source,
Jandek,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tim Buckley,
Outsiders,
Supertramp,
Camberwell Now,
Peter & Gordon,
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rapeman,
Mars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
The Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Porter Ricks,
Mission of Burma,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric Dolphy,
Talk Talk,
Japan,
Amon Düül II,
Adolescents,
Ten City,
Smog,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Green,
The Names,
FM Einheit,
Zero Boys,
Bill Near,
Pulsallama,
Cecil Taylor,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44,
The American Breed,
The Trojans,
Organ,
Spandau Ballet,
Magma,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.