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 Brunei and from New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Saints to the grime 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Derrick May,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Flipper,
Sun Ra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harmonia,
Fear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
JFA,
Matthew Bourne,
Arcadia,
Lower 48,
John Foxx,
Parry Music,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Loose Ends,
The New Christs,
World's Most,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
Moby Grape,
The Divine Comedy,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Surgeon,
T. Rex,
Jandek,
Moss Icon,
kango's stein massive,
Motorama,
Audionom,
The Residents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Germs,
Moebius,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crime,
The Sonics,
Liliput,
Eddi Front,
Jacques Brel,
Icehouse,
Sight & Sound,
Zapp,
The Vogues,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.