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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bush Tetras to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Harmonia,
Joey Negro,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Suicide,
The Vogues,
Jeff Mills,
Anthony Braxton,
the Swans,
Altered Images,
Mantronix,
Harry Pussy,
Absolute Body Control,
Von Mondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fort Wilson Riot,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Starr,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Erasure,
The Walker Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
The Cure,
Whodini,
Althea and Donna,
Sight & Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Eddi Front,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
Barbara Tucker,
John Cale,
Kas Product,
Crooked Eye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bauhaus,
Pylon,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
Brothers Johnson,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Stooges,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.