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 Uruguay and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Q and Not U,
Jerry's Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slackers,
The Leaves,
Scratch Acid,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
Reuben Wilson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pylon,
Tom Boy,
Ice-T,
Pet Shop Boys,
Slave,
Outsiders,
Index,
The Divine Comedy,
Radiohead,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Busters,
Susan Cadogan,
Circle Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Al Stewart,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Yusef Lateef,
Ronan,
the Normal,
Make Up,
Maurizio,
Simply Red,
Marmalade,
Eurythmics,
The Golliwogs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Youth Brigade,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
Mr. Review,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
ABBA,
Dennis Brown,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
Von Mondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Henry Cow,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.