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 Madagascar and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Alice Coltrane to the techno 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Tom Boy,
Excepter,
Lightning Bolt,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Fraelich,
Faraquet,
The Last Poets,
10cc,
Lyres,
Barry Ungar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aswad,
Brand Nubian,
Organ,
Wire,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tim Buckley,
Janne Schatter,
Bluetip,
Slave,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Masters at Work,
Donald Byrd,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Sheep,
Jacques Brel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Von Mondo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Ludus,
Howard Jones,
Urselle,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pylon,
The Evens,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Severed Heads,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric Copeland,
The Kinks,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
JFA,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Negative Approach,
Rites of Spring,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.