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 Kyrgyzstan and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Young Marble Giants to the disco 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Thompson Twins,
Bang On A Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Camouflage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Index,
Avey Tare,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
Don Cherry,
Ituana,
Lungfish,
Josef K,
Loose Ends,
Smog,
JFA,
Camberwell Now,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rekid,
Marine Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Ultravox,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Dead Boys,
Tomorrow,
Fatback Band,
The Human League,
Siglo XX,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Japan,
Aaron Thompson,
Dual Sessions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Shadows of Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Connie Case,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
The Selecter,
Agent Orange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yaz,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Newcleus,
This Heat,
The Associates,
Parry Music,
The Black Dice,
PIL,
Pylon,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.