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 Belize and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sugar Minott to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
the Normal,
Roxette,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pulsallama,
Tres Demented,
Yaz,
The Moody Blues,
Lakeside,
the Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terry Callier,
Blake Baxter,
Barry Ungar,
Pantaleimon,
Erykah Badu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wings,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Boz Scaggs,
Hasil Adkins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
June of 44,
Alison Limerick,
New Order,
Subhumans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David McCallum,
These Immortal Souls,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cowsills,
Aswad,
Circle Jerks,
Minny Pops,
The Cure,
Smog,
UT,
The Skatalites,
Severed Heads,
Second Layer,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Leaves,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
The Gun Club,
Hashim,
Byron Stingily,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
Chris Corsano,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swans,
Monks,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.