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 Niger and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Negative Approach,
Kerrie Biddell,
Drexciya,
The Grass Roots,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stereo Dub,
Wings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Swans,
CMW,
Moby Grape,
Das Ding,
Second Layer,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sound Behaviour,
June of 44,
Ultravox,
Eric Copeland,
Smog,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barbara Tucker,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fall,
Cheater Slicks,
Gichy Dan,
Stiv Bators,
Isaac Hayes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Standells,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Nico,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Simply Red,
The Remains,
Tommy Roe,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Niagra,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
Motorama,
Jeff Lynne,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Move,
Brothers Johnson,
Davy DMX,
The Misunderstood,
Rufus Thomas,
Von Mondo,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.