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 Ireland and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Donald Fagen 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 Fugazi 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Suicide,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Wake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ossler,
Reuben Wilson,
The Kinks,
Monolake,
Section 25,
Black Bananas,
Severed Heads,
The Smiths,
John Cale,
Roxette,
Junior Murvin,
The Toasters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
EPMD,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Order,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
Franke,
Heaven 17,
Public Enemy,
Bronski Beat,
Quando Quango,
Camouflage,
Matthew Bourne,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near,
The Tremeloes,
Grauzone,
The Sound,
Rhythm & Sound,
China Crisis,
T.S.O.L.,
Charles Mingus,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Names,
Radiohead,
Unrelated Segments,
Gastr Del Sol,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
Moby Grape,
Fela Kuti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Germs,
The Fugs,
Livin' Joy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Schoolly D,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.