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 Morocco and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Intrusion,
Joensuu 1685,
Leonard Cohen,
The New Christs,
Nik Kershaw,
Zero Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sound Behaviour,
Roger Hodgson,
Bluetip,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Los Fastidios,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bill Wells,
Eric Copeland,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
KRS-One,
This Heat,
The Monks,
Urselle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Audionom,
a-ha,
Negative Approach,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Prince Buster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
Stetsasonic,
the Slits,
Unrelated Segments,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Nico,
Silicon Teens,
Unwound,
Grauzone,
Massinfluence,
Isaac Hayes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare,
Zapp,
Nirvana,
Lalo Schifrin,
Franke,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Toasters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
Brass Construction,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Half Japanese,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.