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 United Kingdom and from Bologna.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 T.S.O.L. 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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Tim Buckley,
Buzzcocks,
This Heat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
MC5,
Laurel Aitken,
Bronski Beat,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mission of Burma,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Archie Shepp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mark Hollis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Parry Music,
Connie Case,
Grauzone,
Talk Talk,
Eddi Front,
Rotary Connection,
Gabor Szabo,
Kas Product,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
One Last Wish,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sonics,
Moby Grape,
Robert Wyatt,
David McCallum,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mummies,
Lyres,
Rites of Spring,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Bowie,
Severed Heads,
Sandy B,
Pere Ubu,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Womack,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Clarke,
New Order,
Cymande,
Index,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
The Buckinghams,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.