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 Finland and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Move to the jazz 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fortunes,
The New Christs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Y Pants,
Tubeway Army,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Görl,
One Last Wish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Sight & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
KRS-One,
Lindisfarne,
Lyres,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Foxx,
Flamin' Groovies,
10cc,
the Sonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Marvin Gaye,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Radio Birdman,
Aaron Thompson,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Bauhaus,
Angry Samoans,
Sister Nancy,
The Selecter,
Rosa Yemen,
X-102,
Anakelly,
Scrapy,
Cymande,
Minutemen,
The Sonics,
H. Thieme,
Black Bananas,
Cal Tjader,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
Matthew Bourne,
Aural Exciters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
Soft Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bluetip,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
New Age Steppers,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.