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 Macedonia and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moebius to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Pantaleimon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantytec,
Scrapy,
Lungfish,
The Gun Club,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
The Stooges,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slits,
Little Man,
Urselle,
Derrick May,
Rosa Yemen,
Soul II Soul,
Man Parrish,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
Schoolly D,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Al Stewart,
Ultravox,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
Thompson Twins,
The Flesh Eaters,
T. Rex,
Lucky Dragons,
Quadrant,
The J.B.'s,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blackbyrds,
Slave,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Outsiders,
LL Cool J,
Eric Copeland,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
MC5,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bush Tetras,
Joyce Sims,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
World's Most,
Kenny Larkin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.