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 Denmark and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The United States of America to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Derrick Morgan,
Stetsasonic,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
Pulsallama,
Inner City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rosa Yemen,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Patti Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Popol Vuh,
Kas Product,
Infiniti,
The Leaves,
Khruangbin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
Fatback Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Rod Modell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Mummies,
Supertramp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crime,
The Misunderstood,
Barbara Tucker,
Monks,
The Index,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Ultra Naté,
Max Romeo,
Nirvana,
Barclay James Harvest,
Q65,
Pussy Galore,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers,
Erasure,
The Knickerbockers,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter and Kerry,
L. Decosne,
10cc,
The J.B.'s,
Porter Ricks,
Fugazi,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Charles Mingus,
48th St. Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Sheep,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.