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 Monaco and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Siglo XX to the rock 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vladislav Delay,
The Smiths,
Tears for Fears,
Trumans Water,
Jacques Brel,
Throbbing Gristle,
CMW,
David Axelrod,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Joey Negro,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
Isaac Hayes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Quando Quango,
Moby Grape,
Boredoms,
Scrapy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
cv313,
Aswad,
Morten Harket,
Amazonics,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Reed,
Bad Manners,
The Leaves,
The Doobie Brothers,
Duran Duran,
Amon Düül,
Monolake,
Vainqueur,
the Association,
Pantaleimon,
Popol Vuh,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mojo Men,
The Evens,
Minutemen,
Chrome,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bush Tetras,
Marine Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pussy Galore,
James Chance & The Contortions,
a-ha,
Roxette,
China Crisis,
Bill Wells,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.