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 Mali and from Johannesburg.
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 Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 T.S.O.L. 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Dennis Brown,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sound,
MDC,
Delta 5,
Scott Walker,
Crash Course in Science,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cowsills,
Inner City,
X-Ray Spex,
Nirvana,
Kayak,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
Robert Görl,
Gang of Four,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
Judy Mowatt,
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
Grey Daturas,
Khruangbin,
The Grass Roots,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Finger,
Erasure,
Lyres,
Fugazi,
Roxette,
Sparks,
Aloha Tigers,
The United States of America,
Malaria!,
Joe Smooth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wally Richardson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Isaac Hayes,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Pus,
Sex Pistols,
Mark Hollis,
Yusef Lateef,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kaleidoscope,
Tim Buckley,
Fluxion,
This Heat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.