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 St Kitts & Nevis and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Drive Like Jehu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
B.T. Express,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Amazonics,
Visage,
Y Pants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Junior Murvin,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
Average White Band,
the Association,
Morten Harket,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Ralphi Rosario,
KRS-One,
Cecil Taylor,
These Immortal Souls,
X-Ray Spex,
Main Source,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ten City,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Oblivians,
Loose Ends,
Maurizio,
Moss Icon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
Suburban Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Malaria!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bootsy Collins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Rekid,
Wasted Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Rosa Yemen,
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Infiniti,
Franke,
Delta 5,
Wings,
the Swans,
Minutemen,
The Birthday Party,
Rotary Connection,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.