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 Colombia and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Doobie Brothers 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
OOIOO,
Talk Talk,
Brand Nubian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
The Wake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David McCallum,
Royal Trux,
Excepter,
Andrew Hill,
Pantaleimon,
The Human League,
The New Christs,
Slick Rick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Rekid,
The Black Dice,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Rundgren,
Electric Prunes,
New Order,
Lungfish,
Kas Product,
Tom Boy,
The Gun Club,
Rapeman,
Harpers Bizarre,
A Certain Ratio,
Peter & Gordon,
DJ Style,
kango's stein massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scion,
Sällskapet,
Kerri Chandler,
Quando Quango,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cheater Slicks,
Niagra,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacob Miller,
Pere Ubu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Stooges,
Supertramp,
The Doors,
Bobby Sherman,
the Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Cal Tjader,
The Leaves,
Lalann,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.