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 Philadelphia.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 LL Cool J to the grime 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Clarke,
One Last Wish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wally Richardson,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Trojans,
Country Teasers,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Sällskapet,
Quadrant,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scratch Acid,
Q65,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ken Boothe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cecil Taylor,
The Tremeloes,
Iggy Pop,
Ludus,
Wings,
The United States of America,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Talk Talk,
Pole,
Deepchord,
Dawn Penn,
Skaos,
The Victims,
Lee Hazlewood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Josef K,
Robert Hood,
Accadde A,
Technova,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Matthew Bourne,
The Golliwogs,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Camouflage,
Jacques Brel,
Slick Rick,
cv313,
Sound Behaviour,
Bang On A Can,
a-ha,
Alice Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Visage,
Bill Near,
Pagans,
Black Flag,
T. Rex,
Monks,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.