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 Tonga and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cramps to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Bourne,
Marine Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
a-ha,
the Soft Cell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
cv313,
Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Buzzcocks,
The Moody Blues,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
Tears for Fears,
Lalo Schifrin,
Spoonie Gee,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swans,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hasil Adkins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
F. McDonald,
The Red Krayola,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kenny Larkin,
Hashim,
Rekid,
L. Decosne,
The Remains,
Joy Division,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Terry Callier,
Althea and Donna,
Quadrant,
T. Rex,
Mr. Review,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Loose Ends,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.