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 Morocco and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Yaz,
Severed Heads,
Minny Pops,
The J.B.'s,
Vainqueur,
Intrusion,
The Fuzztones,
The Buckinghams,
ABC,
Eli Mardock,
World's Most,
Derrick Morgan,
Depeche Mode,
Porter Ricks,
Archie Shepp,
Average White Band,
Robert Hood,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Jimmy McGriff,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
The Cowsills,
Trumans Water,
Desert Stars,
Roxy Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fatback Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Smog,
Scan 7,
LL Cool J,
The Evens,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jandek,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
The Trojans,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
Piero Umiliani,
The Wake,
Ice-T,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lower 48,
Henry Cow,
Duran Duran,
Danielle Patucci,
Magma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Stetsasonic,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.