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 Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alphaville to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Leonard Cohen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Guru Guru,
Half Japanese,
Charles Mingus,
John Lydon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stetsasonic,
Brand Nubian,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
Moby Grape,
Babytalk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Qualms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
One Last Wish,
Spandau Ballet,
Whodini,
Hot Snakes,
Wolf Eyes,
The Saints,
the Slits,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cal Tjader,
kango's stein massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anakelly,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fluxion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Khruangbin,
Scientists,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
Archie Shepp,
Kenny Larkin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Selecter,
Y Pants,
R.M.O.,
Icehouse,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Normal,
Yellowson,
The Velvet Underground,
Silicon Teens,
Pantaleimon,
Animal Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Stiv Bators,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.