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 San Marino and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Loose Ends to the punk 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Certain Ratio,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Television,
The Durutti Column,
Pierre Henry,
Erasure,
Matthew Bourne,
Blake Baxter,
Simply Red,
Blancmange,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dead C,
Flash Fearless,
The Tremeloes,
The Move,
Mr. Review,
Main Source,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Scan 7,
ABC,
Brand Nubian,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minnie Riperton,
Mars,
The Motions,
Sonic Youth,
The Searchers,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scratch Acid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Khruangbin,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
T.S.O.L.,
Lungfish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tropical Tobacco,
Panda Bear,
Barry Ungar,
Davy DMX,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
Scott Walker,
Carl Craig,
New Age Steppers,
Amon Düül,
Kas Product,
Hot Snakes,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.