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 Austria and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Reagan Youth to the grime 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Can,
Panda Bear,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
The Skatalites,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Spoonie Gee,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Loose Ends,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Monks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dual Sessions,
Amazonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Charles Mingus,
The Gories,
Au Pairs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Patti Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mo-Dettes,
Flipper,
Anthony Braxton,
The Music Machine,
Barbara Tucker,
Sister Nancy,
Skriet,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
Minor Threat,
Robert Hood,
Bronski Beat,
The Stooges,
Sound Behaviour,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
LL Cool J,
Deepchord,
The Neon Judgement,
In Retrospect,
Nas,
Thompson Twins,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Jacques Brel,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
OOIOO,
Absolute Body Control,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
cv313,
R.M.O.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
F. McDonald,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.