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 Namibia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Technova to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
Public Enemy,
Marine Girls,
Rapeman,
One Last Wish,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Searchers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Selecter,
Section 25,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
Surgeon,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
Bauhaus,
Pole,
Amon Düül,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Electric Prunes,
Kurtis Blow,
Idris Muhammad,
Erasure,
Pierre Henry,
X-102,
Kerri Chandler,
Mantronix,
Steve Hackett,
Ituana,
Goldenarms,
Fluxion,
CMW,
Swans,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
Warsaw,
New York Dolls,
Average White Band,
Bill Near,
The Moody Blues,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soft Cell,
Josef K,
Depeche Mode,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Piero Umiliani,
Juan Atkins,
Derrick Morgan,
Newcleus,
Nas,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.