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 East Timor and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roxy Music to the crunk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispy Ambulance,
These Immortal Souls,
The Victims,
The Fuzztones,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bang On A Can,
Brothers Johnson,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Durutti Column,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Buckinghams,
Black Moon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grauzone,
Jeff Lynne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light,
Chrome,
Boz Scaggs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Busters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Index,
Roxy Music,
Harmonia,
Public Enemy,
The Moleskins,
Man Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Finger,
Donny Hathaway,
Delon & Dalcan,
EPMD,
Peter and Kerry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Los Fastidios,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed,
Silicon Teens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Popol Vuh,
Brass Construction,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cowsills,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.