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 Australia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Divine Comedy to the rock 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fugazi,
Von Mondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Visage,
The Standells,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arab on Radar,
Youth Brigade,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
June of 44,
Au Pairs,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
H. Thieme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Angels of Light,
Althea and Donna,
The Cowsills,
The Tremeloes,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
The Zeros,
Crash Course in Science,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Görl,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Sister Nancy,
Reuben Wilson,
Junior Murvin,
Peter and Kerry,
Pylon,
Derrick Morgan,
ABBA,
Television Personalities,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
Dual Sessions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gladiators,
Mission of Burma,
The Dead C,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
Robert Hood,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Bauhaus,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.