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 Bologna.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the disco 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Lynne,
the Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Rotary Connection,
UT,
The Pretty Things,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
This Heat,
Severed Heads,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mr. Review,
The Fugs,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Womack,
Darondo,
Technova,
David Axelrod,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Interpol,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
Masters at Work,
The Move,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pantytec,
Steve Hackett,
Rufus Thomas,
Peter and Kerry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
The American Breed,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Echospace,
The Cramps,
Tim Buckley,
Nik Kershaw,
Hot Snakes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
The Leaves,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.