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 South Africa and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Golliwogs to the rap 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Cameo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Model 500,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang On A Can,
Inner City,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Trojans,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Lynne,
Susan Cadogan,
AZ,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
Toni Rubio,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
Agitation Free,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Mars,
The Happenings,
the Association,
Pantytec,
Main Source,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kenny Larkin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T. Rex,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Negative Approach,
Average White Band,
La Düsseldorf,
KRS-One,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultra Naté,
MC5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mandrill,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
Symarip,
Eden Ahbez,
The Index,
Neu!,
Pole,
John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
Amon Düül,
Nick Fraelich,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.