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 Eritrea and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Agitation Free to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Skaos,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Bananas,
Todd Terry,
DJ Sneak,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Delta 5,
Liliput,
Parry Music,
Yellowson,
The Saints,
Rakim,
X-101,
Eurythmics,
Wasted Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Funkadelic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABC,
OOIOO,
Thompson Twins,
Black Pus,
Tomorrow,
K-Klass,
The Evens,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pet Shop Boys,
One Last Wish,
Minutemen,
The Zeros,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Youth Brigade,
T. Rex,
Swell Maps,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Bourne,
Blossom Toes,
X-102,
Unwound,
L. Decosne,
Janne Schatter,
Mr. Review,
Average White Band,
Icehouse,
The Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
Juan Atkins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Spandau Ballet,
Dark Day,
Joensuu 1685,
Das Ding,
The Count Five,
Stiv Bators,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.