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 Sierra Leone and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pantaleimon to the funk 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moby Grape,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
Cybotron,
The Fortunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bronski Beat,
The American Breed,
Toni Rubio,
Scrapy,
Dark Day,
Easy Going,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Kevin Saunderson,
Reagan Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visage,
The Dirtbombs,
Circle Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
Bang On A Can,
Model 500,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy Collins,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Terry,
Yazoo,
Tres Demented,
The Beau Brummels,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
Schoolly D,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
kango's stein massive,
the Normal,
The Motions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Danielle Patucci,
The Knickerbockers,
Warsaw,
Ponytail,
Make Up,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Kinks,
The Happenings,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.