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 Korea North and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Josef K to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Kenny Larkin,
Newcleus,
Nico,
Toni Rubio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harmonia,
Eve St. Jones,
Quantec,
Arthur Verocai,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minutemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brick,
Agitation Free,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Sheep,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
a-ha,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
Tom Boy,
Bang On A Can,
Carl Craig,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Donny Hathaway,
Chris & Cosey,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Youth Brigade,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Clarke,
Jacob Miller,
the Slits,
The Kinks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
Graham Central Station,
Harry Pussy,
A Certain Ratio,
PIL,
The Associates,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
New York Dolls,
Joyce Sims,
Minny Pops,
David Axelrod,
UT,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.