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 Mozambique and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Babytalk to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Names,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
This Heat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moebius,
Max Romeo,
Pantaleimon,
Outsiders,
Colin Newman,
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
The Move,
Rapeman,
The Five Americans,
Slick Rick,
K-Klass,
Au Pairs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fat Boys,
Crooked Eye,
a-ha,
Basic Channel,
Sixth Finger,
Amazonics,
Robert Hood,
Dawn Penn,
Nas,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mojo Men,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
Infiniti,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soul II Soul,
Das Ding,
Sugar Minott,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skaos,
Brass Construction,
Moss Icon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Metal Thangz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minutemen,
Ken Boothe,
The Dirtbombs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agitation Free,
Boz Scaggs,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blues Magoos,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.