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 Sierra Leone and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kaleidoscope to the crunk 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Man Parrish,
Accadde A,
Pierre Henry,
Livin' Joy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joensuu 1685,
Scion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
Yusef Lateef,
Boz Scaggs,
The Slits,
Vladislav Delay,
Average White Band,
JFA,
Lakeside,
Monks,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young,
Max Romeo,
The Residents,
Organ,
Supertramp,
Whodini,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
The Fuzztones,
The Skatalites,
Bill Near,
Yellowson,
Joyce Sims,
Soulsonic Force,
Man Eating Sloth,
Icehouse,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monks,
Scan 7,
Echospace,
FM Einheit,
Deadbeat,
The Fire Engines,
Jandek,
Franke,
Suicide,
Idris Muhammad,
D'Angelo,
Little Man,
Duran Duran,
The Fortunes,
Colin Newman,
Maurizio,
Stetsasonic,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Normal,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.