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 Norway and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 ABC to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Minnie Riperton,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Supertramp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Certain Ratio,
Toni Rubio,
Crash Course in Science,
T. Rex,
Derrick Morgan,
Ken Boothe,
The New Christs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Throbbing Gristle,
One Last Wish,
Oblivians,
the Bar-Kays,
Cluster,
Reagan Youth,
Pylon,
Schoolly D,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Music Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
Janne Schatter,
The Leaves,
Goldenarms,
X-102,
Freddie Wadling,
Althea and Donna,
X-Ray Spex,
CMW,
The Slits,
Scan 7,
Angry Samoans,
The J.B.'s,
Jesper Dahlback,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wings,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Index,
the Normal,
The Wake,
The Cramps,
The Black Dice,
Boz Scaggs,
Desert Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.