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 Malawi and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 J.B.'s to the disco 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
EPMD,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Durutti Column,
Soulsonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warren Ellis,
Pylon,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cure,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T. Rex,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Womack,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Aswad,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronnie Foster,
Kenny Larkin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Morten Harket,
New Order,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultra Naté,
Jawbox,
The Walker Brothers,
Das Ding,
Dead Boys,
Rapeman,
Patti Smith,
Little Man,
Simply Red,
Eden Ahbez,
Lakeside,
Fluxion,
Robert Wyatt,
Crime,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
L. Decosne,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David McCallum,
Monolake,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Divine Comedy,
Average White Band,
Surgeon,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.