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 Ukraine and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the techno 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Maurizio,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gladiators,
Lyres,
Gong,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q65,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
Freddie Wadling,
Visage,
The Divine Comedy,
Barrington Levy,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
Shuggie Otis,
Camouflage,
Moss Icon,
The Cowsills,
Zapp,
Spoonie Gee,
Yaz,
U.S. Maple,
Motorama,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Y Pants,
Smog,
Yusef Lateef,
Warsaw,
Graham Central Station,
FM Einheit,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rufus Thomas,
Sarah Menescal,
The Busters,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arthur Verocai,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Leaves,
Trumans Water,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monks,
Audionom,
Masters at Work,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Normal,
Sun Ra,
Girls At Our Best!,
10cc,
The Cure,
Faust,
Stereo Dub,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Dolphy,
Sister Nancy,
Tim Buckley,
Index,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.