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 Togo and from New York.
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 Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Hot Snakes,
The United States of America,
Bobby Sherman,
China Crisis,
Minor Threat,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Royal Trux,
Minny Pops,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
Supertramp,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Rekid,
Unwound,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker,
PIL,
Half Japanese,
The Residents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delta 5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Outsiders,
John Holt,
Japan,
Derrick May,
Echospace,
These Immortal Souls,
Marvin Gaye,
B.T. Express,
Agitation Free,
Tim Buckley,
The Selecter,
Scrapy,
Aaron Thompson,
CMW,
Sex Pistols,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Womack,
Kerri Chandler,
Livin' Joy,
Subhumans,
Faraquet,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
Deepchord,
Jeff Lynne,
Barry Ungar,
Simply Red,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.