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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Sight & Sound to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Absolute Body Control,
John Cale,
Moby Grape,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Average White Band,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Qualms,
the Association,
Prince Buster,
Parry Music,
Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
James White and The Blacks,
Brick,
Alton Ellis,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Sonic Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Shoche,
Jacob Miller,
Monolake,
Babytalk,
The Searchers,
Motorama,
Sun City Girls,
Khruangbin,
One Last Wish,
Alphaville,
Colin Newman,
Steve Hackett,
The Mojo Men,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
R.M.O.,
Alison Limerick,
The Durutti Column,
Bush Tetras,
The Smoke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yellowson,
The Moody Blues,
Crooked Eye,
U.S. Maple,
Fluxion,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dawn Penn,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Infiniti,
Q and Not U,
Vladislav Delay,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terry Callier,
the Normal,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.