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 Paraguay and from Lyon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Agent Orange to the punk 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Trumans Water,
Sun City Girls,
Pulsallama,
kango's stein massive,
Neu!,
Delta 5,
The Divine Comedy,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Machine,
The Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Half Japanese,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DJ Style,
In Retrospect,
Vladislav Delay,
Tommy Roe,
Animal Collective,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Smog,
Guru Guru,
Porter Ricks,
John Holt,
Boz Scaggs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
Maurizio,
Wire,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
Grey Daturas,
Swell Maps,
Crime,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sound Behaviour,
Sugar Minott,
Dead Boys,
Fatback Band,
Hoover,
Excepter,
The Techniques,
Aswad,
Maleditus Sound,
Wings,
Bluetip,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW,
The Motions,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
Neil Young,
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
Sister Nancy,
Parry Music,
The Alarm Clocks,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.