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 Namibia and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 The Wake to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
Isaac Hayes,
Inner City,
John Holt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Theoretical Girls,
Blossom Toes,
The J.B.'s,
The Martian,
Icehouse,
Donny Hathaway,
Siglo XX,
Throbbing Gristle,
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Certain Ratio,
Franke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Clear Light,
Joey Negro,
Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monks,
Jerry's Kids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Half Japanese,
The Standells,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Moon,
The Move,
Deepchord,
Ken Boothe,
Juan Atkins,
Aural Exciters,
The Searchers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Matthew Halsall,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camberwell Now,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-101,
The Pretty Things,
Outsiders,
Blancmange,
Bobby Womack,
Marvin Gaye,
Bauhaus,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.