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 Germany and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the disco 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
John Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Scion,
Dark Day,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Arab on Radar,
Masters at Work,
Sixth Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Laurel Aitken,
Fugazi,
Camberwell Now,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang On A Can,
Deakin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Franke,
The Invisible,
Bronski Beat,
Leonard Cohen,
Massinfluence,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Five Americans,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Divine Comedy,
Amazonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Walker Brothers,
MDC,
Amon Düül,
Index,
Organ,
Young Marble Giants,
The Buckinghams,
Girls At Our Best!,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bad Manners,
Ohio Players,
Hoover,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Suburban Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Das Ding,
T.S.O.L.,
Moebius,
Godley & Creme,
Grauzone,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Wyatt,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Quadrant,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.