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 Hungary and from Lille.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes 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 Joey Negro to the punk 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alton Ellis,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arthur Verocai,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Starr,
Sight & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
The Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wire,
Todd Terry,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
The Litter,
The Cramps,
The Invisible,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantytec,
Goldenarms,
Silicon Teens,
Echospace,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
The Move,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Flock of Seagulls,
UT,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barbara Tucker,
Rapeman,
Schoolly D,
Surgeon,
Adolescents,
China Crisis,
F. McDonald,
Circle Jerks,
The Buckinghams,
Scratch Acid,
Chrome,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Supertramp,
The Techniques,
Joe Finger,
Index,
The Golliwogs,
The Smoke,
Michelle Simonal,
Moebius,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.