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 Cameroon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Henry Cow 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Neon Judgement,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy Collins,
the Human League,
Moebius,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultravox,
F. McDonald,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Underground Resistance,
Pole,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marvin Gaye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Nirvana,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Sherman,
Swell Maps,
Audionom,
Faust,
Q and Not U,
Amazonics,
Joensuu 1685,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cluster,
Tears for Fears,
Deakin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Monolake,
Pulsallama,
Clear Light,
the Slits,
Minutemen,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barry Ungar,
T. Rex,
The Move,
Fear,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Lydon,
Little Man,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Television,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.