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 Portugal and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Suburban Knight to the funk 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Finger,
Kas Product,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hashim,
Mr. Review,
The Real Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Swans,
Black Flag,
Max Romeo,
T.S.O.L.,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cowsills,
Marc Almond,
Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Alton Ellis,
Don Cherry,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Jacob Miller,
Liliput,
The Durutti Column,
Visage,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
DJ Style,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lungfish,
Aswad,
Minny Pops,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cybotron,
Todd Rundgren,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
R.M.O.,
Wolf Eyes,
Pylon,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
David McCallum,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ten City,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.