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 Rwanda and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Sister Nancy,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Gichy Dan,
The Angels of Light,
David Axelrod,
The Divine Comedy,
The Kinks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Black Dice,
The Fall,
Mission of Burma,
Scion,
Flash Fearless,
Fugazi,
Warsaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Yellowson,
The J.B.'s,
Public Enemy,
One Last Wish,
Little Man,
Fatback Band,
Lucky Dragons,
The New Christs,
The Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
DJ Style,
Basic Channel,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
Stiv Bators,
Cymande,
The Five Americans,
Pere Ubu,
Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scan 7,
Charles Mingus,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
The Barracudas,
Swell Maps,
Deakin,
Pulsallama,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.