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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Real Kids to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
Swell Maps,
Freddie Wadling,
Bill Near,
Joensuu 1685,
Kevin Saunderson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
F. McDonald,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smoke,
Minutemen,
Smog,
The Monks,
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
10cc,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül II,
Gang of Four,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Green,
Eric Copeland,
Marmalade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
JFA,
Siglo XX,
Tim Buckley,
E-Dancer,
Frankie Knuckles,
T.S.O.L.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Reuben Wilson,
Guru Guru,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Malaria!,
The Techniques,
Wings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed,
Yazoo,
These Immortal Souls,
Little Man,
Howard Jones,
Audionom,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Style,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wasted Youth,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.