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 Cuba and from Lyon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
Banda Bassotti,
Patti Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quando Quango,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
LL Cool J,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
The Kinks,
The New Christs,
Henry Cow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
In Retrospect,
Subhumans,
Qualms,
Easy Going,
Camberwell Now,
KRS-One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish,
Donald Byrd,
Icehouse,
Kurtis Blow,
Thee Headcoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
Loose Ends,
X-101,
The Red Krayola,
Bad Manners,
Wings,
Smog,
Rod Modell,
Agent Orange,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
Circle Jerks,
Dead Boys,
Steve Hackett,
John Holt,
Newcleus,
Al Stewart,
The Fuzztones,
Skaos,
Second Layer,
Juan Atkins,
Deadbeat,
Heaven 17,
Toni Rubio,
James White and The Blacks,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.