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 Moldova and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Al Stewart to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Make Up,
ABBA,
Fear,
The Litter,
Vladislav Delay,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
Marvin Gaye,
Outsiders,
Procol Harum,
The Selecter,
Shuggie Otis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moleskins,
Erykah Badu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
Hoover,
Fad Gadget,
Underground Resistance,
Television Personalities,
Wally Richardson,
Sparks,
Sound Behaviour,
Mr. Review,
Black Flag,
David McCallum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Drexciya,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
The Motions,
The Human League,
Crash Course in Science,
Tomorrow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Spoonie Gee,
The Busters,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
Oblivians,
Ossler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
The Searchers,
Ken Boothe,
The J.B.'s,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.