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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Spandau Ballet to the rap 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Easy Going,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Althea and Donna,
Sugar Minott,
Clear Light,
Davy DMX,
Hot Snakes,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
kango's stein massive,
The Index,
Donald Byrd,
Average White Band,
Unwound,
The Smoke,
Rosa Yemen,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Real Kids,
Marmalade,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
Kaleidoscope,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Invisible,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oblivians,
Black Bananas,
U.S. Maple,
Model 500,
Monolake,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
The Five Americans,
Lower 48,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Jesper Dahlback,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Mandrill,
Gastr Del Sol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Velvet Underground,
Fugazi,
Moby Grape,
Ronan,
The Trojans,
Reuben Wilson,
Ponytail,
Bobby Womack,
cv313,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.