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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Matthew Halsall to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
John Cale,
Black Pus,
Deadbeat,
Harry Pussy,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Wyatt,
E-Dancer,
World's Most,
The Five Americans,
Fluxion,
The Associates,
Fad Gadget,
Mars,
Infiniti,
Joe Finger,
Bush Tetras,
the Germs,
Moss Icon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
Max Romeo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
cv313,
Amon Düül II,
The Mojo Men,
Stetsasonic,
Gichy Dan,
Agent Orange,
Susan Cadogan,
Metal Thangz,
The Gladiators,
Dave Gahan,
Aswad,
Robert Görl,
Al Stewart,
Delta 5,
Camouflage,
The Human League,
Colin Newman,
Tears for Fears,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Normal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Letta Mbulu,
the Association,
the Human League,
Peter and Kerry,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nick Fraelich,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Carl Craig,
The Gories,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.