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 Tunisia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Franke to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fugs,
Radio Birdman,
Quantec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare,
Dark Day,
Ohio Players,
Anakelly,
Erykah Badu,
Leonard Cohen,
Blake Baxter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Soul II Soul,
Buzzcocks,
Patti Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric Dolphy,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
Scion,
Underground Resistance,
The Tremeloes,
Bad Manners,
David Bowie,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
Scientists,
Scrapy,
Minnie Riperton,
Terrestrial Tones,
CMW,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
Joy Division,
Newcleus,
Gabor Szabo,
Vainqueur,
Piero Umiliani,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Absolute Body Control,
Swans,
Eddi Front,
Minor Threat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light,
Eli Mardock,
The Evens,
LL Cool J,
Ossler,
The Dirtbombs,
Dave Gahan,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.