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 Kazakhstan and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Mad Mike to the dance 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Laurel Aitken,
Nils Olav,
Scion,
Robert Wyatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Tremeloes,
The Fugs,
Althea and Donna,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
Blake Baxter,
Sonic Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
Freddie Wadling,
Idris Muhammad,
Scratch Acid,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scientists,
Eden Ahbez,
E-Dancer,
The Happenings,
Rufus Thomas,
Glenn Branca,
DNA,
Rotary Connection,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dead C,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
The Seeds,
This Heat,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
Wasted Youth,
Surgeon,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
New Age Steppers,
Susan Cadogan,
Severed Heads,
The Durutti Column,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
One Last Wish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Dawn Penn,
The Walker Brothers,
Deakin,
Pussy Galore,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Christie,
Quadrant,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.