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 Ecuador and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Alarm Clocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Flash Fearless,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Youth Brigade,
Porter Ricks,
The Kinks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Young Marble Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Lower 48,
Reagan Youth,
Television Personalities,
Crooked Eye,
Ituana,
Half Japanese,
The Barracudas,
Procol Harum,
Royal Trux,
Q and Not U,
Joe Smooth,
Skarface,
Deepchord,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
The Neon Judgement,
The Zeros,
Altered Images,
Robert Görl,
Lucky Dragons,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
ABBA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
JFA,
Anakelly,
Saccharine Trust,
Siglo XX,
Al Stewart,
Chrome,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Magazine,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Subhumans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Quadrant,
Piero Umiliani,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Sherman,
the Bar-Kays,
The Durutti Column,
Roger Hodgson,
Massinfluence,
The Modern Lovers,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.