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 Lesotho and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Derrick Morgan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cowsills,
Angry Samoans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fuzztones,
JFA,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sister Nancy,
Roxette,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Parry Music,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Camouflage,
Dawn Penn,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Public Enemy,
Motorama,
Rod Modell,
Delta 5,
Aural Exciters,
the Human League,
Warsaw,
Spoonie Gee,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ohio Players,
Toni Rubio,
Chris & Cosey,
Derrick Morgan,
Bill Near,
Bauhaus,
The Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Scan 7,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed,
Cluster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Hill,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
Brick,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
Sonic Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
Grey Daturas,
AZ,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.