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 Belarus and from Madrid.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Sällskapet to the grime 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joensuu 1685,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
Y Pants,
Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oblivians,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
Kas Product,
Vainqueur,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cybotron,
Heaven 17,
Scratch Acid,
ABC,
ABBA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blossom Toes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rapeman,
Fatback Band,
Stiv Bators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
MC5,
Toni Rubio,
Minor Threat,
The Stooges,
The Angels of Light,
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
Danielle Patucci,
Talk Talk,
The Busters,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Residents,
Janne Schatter,
The Knickerbockers,
Arcadia,
the Swans,
World's Most,
One Last Wish,
The Electric Prunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Carl Craig,
Tim Buckley,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Five Americans,
Deepchord,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.