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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Albert Ayler to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Knickerbockers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Traffic Nightmare,
Khruangbin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tommy Roe,
Little Man,
Barbara Tucker,
FM Einheit,
John Lydon,
Mr. Review,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
ABBA,
Sound Behaviour,
Nico,
Minnie Riperton,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Real Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Saccharine Trust,
The Leaves,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Harpers Bizarre,
Matthew Halsall,
the Sonics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Divine Comedy,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Dolphy,
kango's stein massive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Al Stewart,
Lyres,
Fear,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thompson Twins,
Kenny Larkin,
The Seeds,
OOIOO,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Niagra,
Ohio Players,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hoover,
Sällskapet,
Trumans Water,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Young Marble Giants,
KRS-One,
The United States of America,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Q and Not U,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.