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 Mexico and from Tokyo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moebius to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Black Bananas,
Drexciya,
Peter and Kerry,
Pantaleimon,
Nik Kershaw,
Siglo XX,
Depeche Mode,
The Doors,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soul Sonic Force,
Avey Tare,
Quadrant,
The Remains,
Flipper,
Motorama,
The Real Kids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chris Corsano,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fugs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
Section 25,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
PIL,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacques Brel,
Marmalade,
The Moody Blues,
Black Pus,
In Retrospect,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
The Sonics,
kango's stein massive,
Bronski Beat,
Fat Boys,
Max Romeo,
Nico,
Unwound,
Tomorrow,
Flash Fearless,
The Smiths,
Morten Harket,
Agitation Free,
Cybotron,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
The Raincoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.