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 Zambia 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Barrington Levy 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bill Wells,
Blake Baxter,
The Doors,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Human League,
Underground Resistance,
Brick,
The Residents,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anakelly,
The Names,
Suicide,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Royal Trux,
Inner City,
The Stooges,
Warren Ellis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Terry Callier,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Ponytail,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
The Smiths,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Buckinghams,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gabor Szabo,
June Days,
Eden Ahbez,
John Lydon,
Cybotron,
Amazonics,
The Count Five,
Country Teasers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jandek,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mars,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wings,
The Sonics,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eddi Front,
Fela Kuti,
Crooked Eye,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.