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 Benin and from Lille.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
The Slackers,
Minutemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spandau Ballet,
World's Most,
Scion,
Funky Four + One,
Interpol,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
The Slits,
The American Breed,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Germs,
John Lydon,
The Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed,
The Cramps,
The Smoke,
Rites of Spring,
Crooked Eye,
Maurizio,
Circle Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
The Monochrome Set,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Matthew Bourne,
JFA,
Cheater Slicks,
Model 500,
China Crisis,
Drexciya,
Q65,
Japan,
Lungfish,
The Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
The Fire Engines,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ludus,
Malaria!,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
Newcleus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lakeside,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Sällskapet,
Sister Nancy,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.