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 Sweden and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The United States of America to the rock 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Sugar Minott,
the Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
Arcadia,
The Star Department,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Cale,
the Slits,
Bill Wells,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Certain Ratio,
Minutemen,
Joey Negro,
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
Pantytec,
The Index,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
Deakin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Derrick May,
a-ha,
Brothers Johnson,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
Dawn Penn,
Theoretical Girls,
Panda Bear,
Quando Quango,
Ultimate Spinach,
Infiniti,
Jacob Miller,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiohead,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roxy Music,
Kenny Larkin,
Slave,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
Tom Boy,
Outsiders,
Sight & Sound,
Camouflage,
Gichy Dan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scan 7,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.