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 Senegal and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Throbbing Gristle to the punk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Icehouse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Neon Judgement,
the Germs,
The Wake,
Y Pants,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
X-Ray Spex,
Deadbeat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
The Victims,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Hashim,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
Oblivians,
June of 44,
Television Personalities,
Pharoah Sanders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Flag,
Newcleus,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Pussy Galore,
Bauhaus,
Schoolly D,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nick Fraelich,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
Donny Hathaway,
Rapeman,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
the Slits,
Patti Smith,
Public Enemy,
Roy Ayers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hoover,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Slackers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Khruangbin,
Eric Copeland,
Jacques Brel,
Outsiders,
Urselle,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.