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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
Andrew Hill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blake Baxter,
Y Pants,
The Monochrome Set,
Sugar Minott,
Letta Mbulu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Wyatt,
Brass Construction,
Moebius,
Soulsonic Force,
Quadrant,
Schoolly D,
The United States of America,
The Real Kids,
Ronnie Foster,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
Echospace,
Agitation Free,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Quando Quango,
Youth Brigade,
D'Angelo,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Visage,
The Vogues,
Steve Hackett,
Dawn Penn,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Accadde A,
The Motions,
Au Pairs,
Von Mondo,
Alton Ellis,
MDC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-Ray Spex,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crooked Eye,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radiohead,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scion,
Dave Gahan,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.