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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Thompson Twins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doors,
Eurythmics,
The Blues Magoos,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slave,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
Sällskapet,
Skarface,
Faraquet,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Names,
David Bowie,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
The Monks,
Roxy Music,
Pantaleimon,
La Düsseldorf,
Archie Shepp,
Mo-Dettes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fat Boys,
Country Teasers,
The Walker Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crime,
Ossler,
Soft Cell,
The Wake,
Altered Images,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Wyatt,
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
Lucky Dragons,
Symarip,
The Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
Alison Limerick,
a-ha,
Janne Schatter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
New Age Steppers,
The Neon Judgement,
Morten Harket,
Pole,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.