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 Seychelles and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Tim Buckley,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
the Slits,
Ossler,
Unwound,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
Sixth Finger,
Newcleus,
Icehouse,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
Circle Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
Harmonia,
Chris Corsano,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
The Searchers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Detroit Cobras,
EPMD,
Joyce Sims,
Pere Ubu,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Halsall,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Red Krayola,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hardrive,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Echospace,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bronski Beat,
Au Pairs,
The Monochrome Set,
Gichy Dan,
June Days,
The Seeds,
Neil Young,
Neu!,
Warren Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gun Club,
Guru Guru,
Procol Harum,
The Birthday Party,
the Swans,
The Blackbyrds,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.