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 Armenia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 This Heat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Crime,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
cv313,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
Kool Moe Dee,
Panda Bear,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flipper,
B.T. Express,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
Magma,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Gichy Dan,
Silicon Teens,
Q and Not U,
The Zeros,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
The Dead C,
Technova,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
The Red Krayola,
The Last Poets,
Easy Going,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Interpol,
Kenny Larkin,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fuzztones,
The Selecter,
K-Klass,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tomorrow,
Mad Mike,
Wasted Youth,
X-102,
Warren Ellis,
Morten Harket,
Crash Course in Science,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minor Threat,
Henry Cow,
Make Up,
Essential Logic,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.