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 Brunei and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Black Sheep to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
JFA,
The Moleskins,
The Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Kas Product,
Joe Smooth,
John Lydon,
Oneida,
Todd Terry,
The Red Krayola,
Black Sheep,
Hoover,
Marine Girls,
The Zeros,
Sex Pistols,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
Con Funk Shun,
The Index,
Neil Young,
Essential Logic,
Saccharine Trust,
Scrapy,
Maurizio,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Suicide,
Trumans Water,
The Kinks,
Fear,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Byrd,
Newcleus,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Hardrive,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Human League,
China Crisis,
ABBA,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
Cheater Slicks,
Second Layer,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erykah Badu,
Darondo,
Icehouse,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Starr,
Wings,
Livin' Joy,
Thompson Twins,
World's Most,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Goldenarms,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.