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 India and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric Copeland to the jazz 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flash Fearless,
CMW,
Ituana,
Eden Ahbez,
Zero Boys,
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Little Man,
Al Stewart,
The Mummies,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lightning Bolt,
Bronski Beat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
Robert Hood,
The Blues Magoos,
cv313,
Yazoo,
Von Mondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Germs,
Lakeside,
Bad Manners,
Nirvana,
New York Dolls,
The Leaves,
KRS-One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Funky Four + One,
Tim Buckley,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Junior Murvin,
Sarah Menescal,
The Names,
the Sonics,
Kayak,
Camouflage,
The Litter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ornette Coleman,
One Last Wish,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Gang Dance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
Jeff Lynne,
K-Klass,
New Age Steppers,
The Martian,
Babytalk,
Skriet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.