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 Saudi Arabia and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Busters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals 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?
Ice-T,
Make Up,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Monolake,
Angry Samoans,
Grauzone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Trojans,
Thompson Twins,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
Lungfish,
Mission of Burma,
Sparks,
Little Man,
Eddi Front,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Techniques,
Sällskapet,
The Fall,
Dawn Penn,
Kas Product,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Moon,
Public Enemy,
Man Parrish,
Ituana,
Minutemen,
Sonic Youth,
E-Dancer,
Rod Modell,
The Toasters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Supertramp,
Charles Mingus,
Nick Fraelich,
Youth Brigade,
Danielle Patucci,
Can,
Black Pus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pylon,
H. Thieme,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Bar-Kays,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.