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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 Swell Maps to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Young Marble Giants,
John Foxx,
The Young Rascals,
Harry Pussy,
Ituana,
Cymande,
kango's stein massive,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Ossler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
The Knickerbockers,
Oblivians,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Subhumans,
Sixth Finger,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quantec,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lucky Dragons,
Fad Gadget,
Scion,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
Magma,
Mr. Review,
The Pop Group,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
Mary Jane Girls,
June Days,
Ten City,
The United States of America,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Al Stewart,
Robert Hood,
Can,
Newcleus,
Livin' Joy,
Spoonie Gee,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Warsaw,
Duran Duran,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
Whodini,
John Cale,
The Raincoats,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultravox,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.