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 Lithuania and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nirvana to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Parry Music,
Johnny Clarke,
Mars,
Dual Sessions,
Das Ding,
Delta 5,
June of 44,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
Inner City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Monochrome Set,
John Foxx,
The Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Ice-T,
The Zeros,
Soul II Soul,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Birthday Party,
Radiohead,
Derrick Morgan,
The New Christs,
Jerry's Kids,
Mad Mike,
FM Einheit,
Howard Jones,
Stiv Bators,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Brand Nubian,
Mantronix,
Grey Daturas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
Ultra Naté,
Simply Red,
Eve St. Jones,
Quadrant,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gladiators,
Desert Stars,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.