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 Bahrain and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Almond 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Brick,
Dave Gahan,
Thompson Twins,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thee Headcoats,
Deepchord,
Tres Demented,
The Birthday Party,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wings,
Moby Grape,
Magma,
The Raincoats,
The Gun Club,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Blues Magoos,
Loose Ends,
Excepter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
Fluxion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
Kayak,
Jeff Mills,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fall,
the Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Reagan Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blake Baxter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Selecter,
La Düsseldorf,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Skatalites,
The Cramps,
Roxy Music,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The United States of America,
Anakelly,
EPMD,
Q65,
E-Dancer,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.