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 Laos and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Litter to the grime 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
John Lydon,
David McCallum,
Interpol,
These Immortal Souls,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
Jawbox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Excepter,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonic Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Thee Headcoats,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Inner City,
Panda Bear,
Piero Umiliani,
Ornette Coleman,
The Pretty Things,
K-Klass,
Jacques Brel,
Lebanon Hanover,
Charles Mingus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül,
Marc Almond,
Simply Red,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bush Tetras,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Moleskins,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Guru Guru,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Dave Gahan,
Sight & Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Derrick May,
Susan Cadogan,
Cymande,
The Searchers,
The Divine Comedy,
Blake Baxter,
Brass Construction,
Essential Logic,
X-102,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
Moby Grape,
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.