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 Uruguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Ultimate Spinach to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Ornette Coleman,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
the Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Soulsonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Pagans,
Marine Girls,
Vainqueur,
The Birthday Party,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
Roy Ayers,
Franke,
Minor Threat,
Deepchord,
Blake Baxter,
Negative Approach,
Second Layer,
Kerri Chandler,
Wings,
Flash Fearless,
The Wake,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Angels of Light,
Main Source,
Television,
John Cale,
Slave,
The Slackers,
John Lydon,
The Five Americans,
Skaos,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
The Smoke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
UT,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerrie Biddell,
Shuggie Otis,
Desert Stars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Evens,
Monolake,
Eden Ahbez,
Accadde A,
Moebius,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.