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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Con Funk Shun to the rap 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Lalann,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fall,
MDC,
Mantronix,
Half Japanese,
The Zeros,
Supertramp,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Max Romeo,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Five Americans,
The Tremeloes,
Stiv Bators,
Black Pus,
The Gladiators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Bang On A Can,
Nico,
Slave,
Flipper,
The Kinks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nik Kershaw,
The Velvet Underground,
David Axelrod,
Yusef Lateef,
Magma,
Quantec,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed,
ABC,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glenn Branca,
Jacques Brel,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pussy Galore,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Smog,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
The Remains,
Cluster,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jacob Miller,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.