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 Sweden and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Peter & Gordon to the dance 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
Dark Day,
Outsiders,
Soft Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Technova,
DNA,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
48th St. Collective,
Lungfish,
Black Pus,
Juan Atkins,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
The Zeros,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grauzone,
JFA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gories,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Junior Murvin,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
Drexciya,
Malaria!,
The Mojo Men,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The J.B.'s,
Yazoo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül,
Altered Images,
Negative Approach,
Minnie Riperton,
Adolescents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Association,
Skaos,
Index,
Bluetip,
Babytalk,
Buzzcocks,
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Danielle Patucci,
Bush Tetras,
The Barracudas,
The United States of America,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sight & Sound,
Barrington Levy,
The Index,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.