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 Namibia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Skarface,
Sonny Sharrock,
Carl Craig,
H. Thieme,
The Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
Accadde A,
Bauhaus,
UT,
Ornette Coleman,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Wake,
Japan,
Whodini,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy Collins,
Wally Richardson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Depeche Mode,
Scan 7,
Clear Light,
Visage,
Eddi Front,
Gang of Four,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxy Music,
B.T. Express,
Niagra,
Warren Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
Quando Quango,
Piero Umiliani,
David Bowie,
Half Japanese,
Jacob Miller,
Swans,
Gabor Szabo,
Warsaw,
Monolake,
Television,
48th St. Collective,
Bronski Beat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Man Parrish,
New Order,
Boz Scaggs,
The Kinks,
Essential Logic,
Black Moon,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.