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 Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Near to the disco 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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack 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?
Anthony Braxton,
The Grass Roots,
Skriet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Malaria!,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
Slick Rick,
Motorama,
John Holt,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Colin Newman,
Radiohead,
Kerrie Biddell,
La Düsseldorf,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Derrick May,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
Icehouse,
Johnny Clarke,
Warren Ellis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Erykah Badu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Infiniti,
Minutemen,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
Accadde A,
Visage,
Animal Collective,
The Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Altered Images,
Nik Kershaw,
The Young Rascals,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
The Monks,
Camberwell Now,
Morten Harket,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.