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 Kiribati and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Slave to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters 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?
Aswad,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Monolake,
10cc,
The Smoke,
Scan 7,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Finger,
Piero Umiliani,
Kaleidoscope,
Newcleus,
Loose Ends,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang On A Can,
Masters at Work,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Royal Trux,
James White and The Blacks,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Style,
The Cramps,
The Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Wire,
The Music Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Jawbox,
the Germs,
Goldenarms,
Carl Craig,
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jandek,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
Massinfluence,
Roxy Music,
Brand Nubian,
Public Enemy,
Colin Newman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mark Hollis,
The Monochrome Set,
Al Stewart,
X-Ray Spex,
This Heat,
The Remains,
Mars,
Stereo Dub,
Sam Rivers,
Youth Brigade,
Joe Smooth,
Simply Red,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.