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 Andorra and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Derrick Morgan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tears for Fears,
Moss Icon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Divine Comedy,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
Joey Negro,
The Monks,
Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Unwound,
Visage,
Gang of Four,
Pierre Henry,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tubeway Army,
X-Ray Spex,
The Star Department,
Blake Baxter,
Nico,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
EPMD,
the Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scientists,
The Searchers,
Tommy Roe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott Heron,
Porter Ricks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxette,
Robert Wyatt,
Fatback Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rod Modell,
Leonard Cohen,
This Heat,
Robert Görl,
Technova,
Mad Mike,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sun Ra,
The Trojans,
Procol Harum,
Section 25,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.