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 Mongolia and from New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grunge 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Chris Corsano,
The Walker Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suburban Knight,
Angry Samoans,
Alphaville,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jandek,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Half Japanese,
Negative Approach,
The Zeros,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Starr,
Kaleidoscope,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Red Krayola,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
Second Layer,
Jeru the Damaja,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultra Naté,
Japan,
Suicide,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Hood,
Slick Rick,
Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Youth Brigade,
Sam Rivers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
June of 44,
Essential Logic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Grass Roots,
In Retrospect,
Stereo Dub,
Bad Manners,
The Golliwogs,
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eden Ahbez,
Livin' Joy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pylon,
Fad Gadget,
The Mummies,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.