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 Saudi Arabia and from Tehran.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Swell Maps to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boz Scaggs,
Camberwell Now,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Cale,
The Cramps,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Q65,
Skarface,
Sällskapet,
KRS-One,
Little Man,
Mark Hollis,
Interpol,
The Leaves,
Lindisfarne,
Ossler,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yellowson,
Warsaw,
The Velvet Underground,
Roger Hodgson,
Groovy Waters,
The Invisible,
The Offenders,
D'Angelo,
Gichy Dan,
The Names,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chrome,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Subhumans,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Mills,
Slave,
Trumans Water,
Agent Orange,
Wings,
Fatback Band,
The Remains,
Severed Heads,
Dennis Brown,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mr. Review,
New Age Steppers,
Monks,
Surgeon,
Sister Nancy,
Q and Not U,
JFA,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Derrick May,
The Barracudas,
John Holt,
Zapp,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.