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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Music Machine to the dance 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The Seeds,
Man Eating Sloth,
B.T. Express,
Clear Light,
The Vogues,
Marmalade,
Soft Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Altered Images,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultravox,
Nas,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
The Gun Club,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
Minny Pops,
The Slackers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Nils Olav,
the Slits,
Lindisfarne,
Kenny Larkin,
Fela Kuti,
Malaria!,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Make Up,
Scion,
The Golliwogs,
Yazoo,
Andrew Hill,
The Walker Brothers,
Monks,
Silicon Teens,
Warsaw,
Mark Hollis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Newcleus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
Desert Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.