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 South Africa and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Flash Fearless to the dance 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick May,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dark Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Minnie Riperton,
Niagra,
Altered Images,
Desert Stars,
Crime,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
Outsiders,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Black Dice,
The Litter,
New York Dolls,
Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neu!,
CMW,
Boz Scaggs,
Marmalade,
Make Up,
The Doors,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed,
Deepchord,
Easy Going,
the Normal,
The Trojans,
June of 44,
Khruangbin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Residents,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
Rod Modell,
Animal Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bluetip,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.