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 Germany 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Drexciya to the funk 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Saints,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deakin,
Magazine,
The Monks,
Al Stewart,
Pere Ubu,
Cluster,
The Toasters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Public Enemy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Carl Craig,
Saccharine Trust,
Bob Dylan,
The Smiths,
Basic Channel,
Boz Scaggs,
The Electric Prunes,
China Crisis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sonics,
John Foxx,
The Victims,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pussy Galore,
Harmonia,
Ossler,
Susan Cadogan,
Arcadia,
Tres Demented,
Heaven 17,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Television Personalities,
Byron Stingily,
Scott Walker,
Bluetip,
Simply Red,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Mantronix,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Model 500,
X-101,
Kerri Chandler,
The Raincoats,
Camberwell Now,
Ludus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alice Coltrane,
Sonic Youth,
Black Sheep,
Pole,
The Velvet Underground,
X-Ray Spex,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.