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 Gambia and from Glasgow.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 10cc to the funk 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scientists,
Man Parrish,
Boredoms,
The Last Poets,
Chrome,
The Gladiators,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pole,
Eric Copeland,
Fad Gadget,
June Days,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Hood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soul II Soul,
JFA,
Lightning Bolt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Pere Ubu,
Masters at Work,
Mad Mike,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fat Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deepchord,
Rites of Spring,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tomorrow,
The Smoke,
Gabor Szabo,
Ronan,
Banda Bassotti,
La Düsseldorf,
Idris Muhammad,
X-101,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dennis Brown,
Gichy Dan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare,
Sound Behaviour,
The Vogues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
Moby Grape,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sonics,
Ludus,
The Saints,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.