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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blues Magoos,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
The Beau Brummels,
Lindisfarne,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Panda Bear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June Days,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harmonia,
Stetsasonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bootsy Collins,
Depeche Mode,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Average White Band,
Deakin,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Trojans,
Steve Hackett,
Youth Brigade,
Inner City,
Cymande,
Crash Course in Science,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Skatalites,
Grey Daturas,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fluxion,
Wire,
Basic Channel,
ABC,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fall,
Rod Modell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Das Ding,
Scion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arthur Verocai,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
Brothers Johnson,
Delta 5,
Vainqueur,
Jeff Mills,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.