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 Norway and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Simply Red,
Skarface,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barrington Levy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yazoo,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Jawbox,
Ronnie Foster,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Model 500,
Technova,
Shoche,
Junior Murvin,
Joey Negro,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blues Magoos,
Fluxion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
Boredoms,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül,
The Fuzztones,
Ultravox,
Kaleidoscope,
Sonic Youth,
The Fortunes,
Circle Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
The Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
Trumans Water,
the Human League,
ABBA,
Metal Thangz,
Dead Boys,
The Busters,
The Techniques,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Juan Atkins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.