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 Venezuela and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fugs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
The Offenders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
Livin' Joy,
Albert Ayler,
Ohio Players,
The Fortunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
E-Dancer,
Jeff Lynne,
Pagans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scientists,
Mantronix,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
Visage,
Jandek,
Maleditus Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims,
Pussy Galore,
the Germs,
Black Moon,
Crooked Eye,
Magazine,
Bootsy Collins,
Funky Four + One,
The Velvet Underground,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Halsall,
Max Romeo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Average White Band,
Patti Smith,
Organ,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boz Scaggs,
Porter Ricks,
The Star Department,
Tom Boy,
Junior Murvin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Scrapy,
Accadde A,
Severed Heads,
Bob Dylan,
Fat Boys,
Sugar Minott,
Television Personalities,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
CMW,
Cluster,
Ultravox,
Deepchord,
Interpol,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.