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 Nigeria and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Index to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Jeff Mills,
Index,
Flash Fearless,
Malaria!,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Ronan,
Bill Wells,
The Techniques,
Arthur Verocai,
The Human League,
Inner City,
Metal Thangz,
Alton Ellis,
Q and Not U,
Crime,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
The American Breed,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
Schoolly D,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxy Music,
Howard Jones,
Joe Smooth,
Harpers Bizarre,
48th St. Collective,
Oneida,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
Deepchord,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hoover,
Colin Newman,
Blossom Toes,
Youth Brigade,
Silicon Teens,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Association,
U.S. Maple,
Joensuu 1685,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
The Gap Band,
Deadbeat,
Dennis Brown,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.