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 Mumbai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Shadows of Knight to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
Soft Machine,
Gong,
Deepchord,
Faraquet,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ornette Coleman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Spoonie Gee,
Outsiders,
The Slits,
New Order,
Alphaville,
Black Moon,
Hoover,
The Martian,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Vogues,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Bourne,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
Dead Boys,
Deakin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mo-Dettes,
World's Most,
The Fuzztones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
Sarah Menescal,
Patti Smith,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moebius,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
Warren Ellis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Alarm Clocks,
cv313,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Sheep,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Drive Like Jehu,
DJ Style,
Ossler,
Funkadelic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
Fluxion,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.