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 Bahrain and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Essential Logic to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Monolake,
Unrelated Segments,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Axelrod,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams,
The Motions,
World's Most,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Porter Ricks,
Unwound,
Sandy B,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joensuu 1685,
Eli Mardock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jerry's Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Guru Guru,
Anakelly,
The Sound,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Ronnie Foster,
Blancmange,
The Toasters,
The Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work,
PIL,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aural Exciters,
Janne Schatter,
New Age Steppers,
Dennis Brown,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Can,
Boz Scaggs,
Young Marble Giants,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liliput,
Easy Going,
Eve St. Jones,
The Martian,
Derrick Morgan,
Pierre Henry,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Black Bananas,
Bush Tetras,
The Evens,
The Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Mandrill,
Archie Shepp,
Mark Hollis,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.