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 Cyprus and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Vladislav Delay to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon,
Todd Rundgren,
Spoonie Gee,
the Slits,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Davy DMX,
Aural Exciters,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flash Fearless,
Kayak,
Guru Guru,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Doors,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Albert Ayler,
The Gun Club,
Cluster,
The Fortunes,
DJ Style,
Moby Grape,
Ossler,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chris & Cosey,
Mission of Burma,
The Blues Magoos,
Newcleus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonic Youth,
Tres Demented,
Boredoms,
FM Einheit,
The Techniques,
the Bar-Kays,
Pantytec,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Essential Logic,
Procol Harum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pole,
The Cure,
Intrusion,
The Invisible,
Gichy Dan,
Peter and Kerry,
LL Cool J,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moleskins,
Susan Cadogan,
David Bowie,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.