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 Ivory Coast and from London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Magma to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Lyres,
Rosa Yemen,
Monolake,
The Angels of Light,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monochrome Set,
The Star Department,
Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Public Enemy,
The Evens,
The Buckinghams,
The Toasters,
Icehouse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultravox,
Oneida,
Mandrill,
Marshall Jefferson,
Excepter,
Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Tubeway Army,
MC5,
Urselle,
Basic Channel,
Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
Cameo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quando Quango,
Crime,
Average White Band,
Organ,
Mr. Review,
Bad Manners,
Circle Jerks,
Von Mondo,
The Zeros,
David Bowie,
Eddi Front,
Interpol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Young Marble Giants,
The Barracudas,
Moebius,
The Knickerbockers,
Supertramp,
Nirvana,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Velvet Underground,
Zero Boys,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.