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 Estonia and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mark Hollis to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mummies,
Public Enemy,
Q65,
Alison Limerick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
The Cramps,
Cameo,
Massinfluence,
Talk Talk,
Nas,
The Buckinghams,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kenny Larkin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Das Ding,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
AZ,
Dennis Brown,
Eddi Front,
Ten City,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Laurel Aitken,
Subhumans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Thee Headcoats,
Chris & Cosey,
the Bar-Kays,
The Human League,
R.M.O.,
Harry Pussy,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gories,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fall,
Scion,
Archie Shepp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Banda Bassotti,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donald Byrd,
Warsaw,
Grey Daturas,
Magma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Minor Threat,
Symarip,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kas Product,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.