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 Russia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 B.T. Express to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Young Rascals,
R.M.O.,
DJ Sneak,
Newcleus,
Crooked Eye,
Underground Resistance,
Man Parrish,
Tres Demented,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sex Pistols,
Average White Band,
Brand Nubian,
Khruangbin,
Wire,
The Velvet Underground,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fortunes,
The Tremeloes,
Lungfish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Archie Shepp,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Model 500,
Derrick May,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang On A Can,
The Durutti Column,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Copeland,
Television,
Absolute Body Control,
Peter and Kerry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pere Ubu,
Hashim,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jawbox,
Basic Channel,
Maurizio,
T. Rex,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Mills,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
Susan Cadogan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slave,
Talk Talk,
Ponytail,
Half Japanese,
Drexciya,
Goldenarms,
The Searchers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marmalade,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad 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.