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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Cowsills to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jawbox,
Minutemen,
the Soft Cell,
The Gories,
Bang On A Can,
Lucky Dragons,
The Happenings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q65,
Terry Callier,
Aural Exciters,
Tubeway Army,
Yellowson,
the Bar-Kays,
Wasted Youth,
New Age Steppers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slackers,
Subhumans,
Tom Boy,
Reagan Youth,
Moss Icon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gap Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
The American Breed,
Boogie Down Productions,
Livin' Joy,
Boredoms,
Sex Pistols,
The Invisible,
Mission of Burma,
Hot Snakes,
Severed Heads,
Agitation Free,
Black Sheep,
Pagans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Section 25,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Lakeside,
Essential Logic,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Moleskins,
The Fall,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.