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 Belgium and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Maurizio,
Wire,
Pagans,
Soft Cell,
Scan 7,
The Slackers,
The Zeros,
Magazine,
La Düsseldorf,
Gichy Dan,
The Misunderstood,
The Residents,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Model 500,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
the Soft Cell,
X-102,
Dawn Penn,
A Certain Ratio,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hot Snakes,
the Slits,
Angry Samoans,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
World's Most,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lakeside,
Panda Bear,
Zero Boys,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ludus,
The United States of America,
Robert Wyatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultravox,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eden Ahbez,
Rufus Thomas,
The Walker Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fear,
Delta 5,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Agent Orange,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.