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 Toronto.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kaleidoscope to the dance 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Derrick May,
Franke,
Maurizio,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Green,
Khruangbin,
Max Romeo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Flag,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Vladislav Delay,
EPMD,
The Offenders,
The Wake,
Little Man,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Erykah Badu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cameo,
Neil Young,
Procol Harum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mark Hollis,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül II,
The Standells,
The Selecter,
Magma,
Arcadia,
CMW,
The Divine Comedy,
Reuben Wilson,
Carl Craig,
Crooked Eye,
Skarface,
Nation of Ulysses,
Goldenarms,
Mandrill,
DJ Style,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra,
The Moody Blues,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nico,
Sandy B,
Andrew Hill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mojo Men,
Brick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Cale,
Make Up,
H. Thieme,
Bill Wells,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
Motorama,
Tomorrow,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.