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 Mali and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Y Pants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
L. Decosne,
Kenny Larkin,
Barrington Levy,
The Mojo Men,
The Angels of Light,
Sixth Finger,
Slave,
The Smiths,
Icehouse,
Cluster,
Eddi Front,
Ponytail,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bill Near,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
The Smoke,
Yusef Lateef,
Zapp,
H. Thieme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mantronix,
John Holt,
Shuggie Otis,
Tommy Roe,
DNA,
K-Klass,
The Saints,
Hot Snakes,
The Gories,
Leonard Cohen,
Masters at Work,
Mad Mike,
Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rotary Connection,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mandrill,
Monks,
Lou Christie,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABC,
Blake Baxter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Busters,
The Count Five,
Roxette,
Thompson Twins,
Cameo,
Circle Jerks,
Newcleus,
World's Most,
Inner City,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Laurel Aitken,
Brick,
Slick Rick,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.