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 Uganda and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Shuggie Otis to the dance 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Underground Resistance,
Absolute Body Control,
The Monochrome Set,
Sparks,
Idris Muhammad,
This Heat,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dave Gahan,
Juan Atkins,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Standells,
Sixth Finger,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
Pantaleimon,
John Cale,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Skatalites,
Bang On A Can,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
Gang of Four,
Electric Prunes,
X-101,
Warren Ellis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sam Rivers,
Motorama,
the Human League,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
Kayak,
Monolake,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Osbourne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
The Wake,
Neu!,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scott Walker,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
Chrome,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.