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 Djibouti and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grunge 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba 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 sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Litter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nico,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacques Brel,
Buzzcocks,
The Modern Lovers,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Au Pairs,
Oneida,
The Gap Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gichy Dan,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Josef K,
The Skatalites,
Fela Kuti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radio Birdman,
The Cramps,
John Coltrane,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Sandy B,
Essential Logic,
The Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tom Boy,
Bad Manners,
New Order,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
Wolf Eyes,
Barrington Levy,
Howard Jones,
The Durutti Column,
The Residents,
Colin Newman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
10cc,
Swell Maps,
Steve Hackett,
Mandrill,
David McCallum,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Delta 5,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.