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 Tuvalu and from Milan.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bill Wells to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Masters at Work,
A Certain Ratio,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slackers,
Sun City Girls,
John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Sparks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MC5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Al Stewart,
The Pop Group,
Marmalade,
The Grass Roots,
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
Isaac Hayes,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
ABC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cal Tjader,
Pantytec,
The Mummies,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Josef K,
Soul II Soul,
Bad Manners,
The United States of America,
AZ,
Liliput,
Nas,
Dark Day,
The Pretty Things,
Skriet,
Slave,
Fatback Band,
Alison Limerick,
Scan 7,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pagans,
The Sonics,
Mad Mike,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Martian,
R.M.O.,
Yaz,
The Fugs,
The Music Machine,
Malaria!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.