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 Djibouti and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Charles Mingus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slits,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Black Dice,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deepchord,
Fatback Band,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Public Enemy,
Parry Music,
Roxette,
Amon Düül II,
The Grass Roots,
Ultra Naté,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rod Modell,
Neil Young,
The Mojo Men,
Lindisfarne,
Minny Pops,
Nils Olav,
Blake Baxter,
Half Japanese,
a-ha,
Be Bop Deluxe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gichy Dan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cluster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Invisible,
Deadbeat,
Bang On A Can,
Scion,
Byron Stingily,
New York Dolls,
the Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
The Searchers,
Sonic Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
B.T. Express,
Pantytec,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerri Chandler,
Junior Murvin,
Thompson Twins,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Duran Duran,
Jandek,
Cal Tjader,
Radio Birdman,
Cameo,
Soul II Soul,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.