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 Palau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
48th St. Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Moss Icon,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
CMW,
Can,
The Buckinghams,
Sparks,
The Blackbyrds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
Jimmy McGriff,
Juan Atkins,
The Motions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Man Parrish,
Dark Day,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
Whodini,
Goldenarms,
The Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Graham Central Station,
H. Thieme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sarah Menescal,
Television Personalities,
Ronan,
Average White Band,
Patti Smith,
Lou Reed,
Little Man,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fugazi,
Oneida,
Skriet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Leonard Cohen,
Ossler,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
Barry Ungar,
Easy Going,
Saccharine Trust,
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Amazonics,
Colin Newman,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.