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 Marshall Islands and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 R.M.O. to the electroclash 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nirvana,
Flamin' Groovies,
Swell Maps,
Slave,
World's Most,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
The Knickerbockers,
Rapeman,
Royal Trux,
K-Klass,
T. Rex,
Nico,
Scion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kaleidoscope,
The Zeros,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Modern Lovers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alphaville,
Warsaw,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gun Club,
Country Teasers,
Lou Christie,
Carl Craig,
Sound Behaviour,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Procol Harum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Audionom,
The Selecter,
Vainqueur,
Newcleus,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Q and Not U,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Fraelich,
Popol Vuh,
Crooked Eye,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Invisible,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.