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 Zimbabwe and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grandmaster Flash to the dance 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Angels of Light,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric Copeland,
The Birthday Party,
Mantronix,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flamin' Groovies,
Darondo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
Scrapy,
Funkadelic,
The Mummies,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
The Pretty Things,
Danielle Patucci,
Monks,
Tubeway Army,
Khruangbin,
8 Eyed Spy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cowsills,
Hardrive,
Theoretical Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Joe Smooth,
Swell Maps,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
The Star Department,
Jeff Lynne,
Bad Manners,
Oneida,
The Kinks,
The Wake,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joy Division,
Bang On A Can,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soulsonic Force,
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
F. McDonald,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Certain Ratio,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fat Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fuzztones,
Zero Boys,
a-ha,
Pantaleimon,
Camberwell Now,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.