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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Mojo Men to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Black Pus,
In Retrospect,
The Grass Roots,
The Cure,
Avey Tare,
Skaos,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris & Cosey,
Lee Hazlewood,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Hood,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jawbox,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Josef K,
the Association,
The Red Krayola,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
The Moleskins,
Duran Duran,
Technova,
Lucky Dragons,
The Monochrome Set,
Subhumans,
MC5,
Main Source,
Au Pairs,
DNA,
Marvin Gaye,
John Cale,
Hoover,
Mandrill,
Reagan Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joy Division,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
The Durutti Column,
E-Dancer,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alphaville,
Todd Rundgren,
The Wake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
Minnie Riperton,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Carl Craig,
Pantytec,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.