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 Malawi and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Amon Düül 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Niagra,
John Coltrane,
Kaleidoscope,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donald Byrd,
KRS-One,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Neon Judgement,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
Warsaw,
The Smiths,
Talk Talk,
Interpol,
Janne Schatter,
Outsiders,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gun Club,
Wire,
Marine Girls,
Rekid,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nico,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Sherman,
Shuggie Otis,
Magma,
Q65,
Ultra Naté,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wally Richardson,
Lyres,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cluster,
Peter and Kerry,
Prince Buster,
Eric Dolphy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suicide,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxy Music,
Procol Harum,
Blancmange,
The Gories,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
Hardrive,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.