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 Haiti and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Stockholm Monsters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Henry Cow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harmonia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantytec,
Stockholm Monsters,
Talk Talk,
The Wake,
The Fortunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Animal Collective,
Alphaville,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
The Victims,
Derrick May,
Yazoo,
Bob Dylan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Q65,
The Misunderstood,
The Residents,
The Durutti Column,
Graham Central Station,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Golliwogs,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Pylon,
Intrusion,
Duran Duran,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Remains,
Ken Boothe,
Sight & Sound,
Ossler,
Lebanon Hanover,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
Kayak,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Selecter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brass Construction,
Camouflage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Juan Atkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Altered Images,
Buzzcocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.