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 San Marino and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 The Velvet Underground to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Selecter,
Adolescents,
Cluster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
CMW,
Maurizio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tim Buckley,
Cybotron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The United States of America,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boz Scaggs,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiohead,
Youth Brigade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Danielle Patucci,
Morten Harket,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Urselle,
The Trojans,
the Bar-Kays,
The Standells,
Camberwell Now,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Cale,
Man Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Reagan Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eurythmics,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alphaville,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crooked Eye,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Das Ding,
DNA,
The New Christs,
Rapeman,
Cecil Taylor,
Bush Tetras,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
X-102,
Dave Gahan,
David Axelrod,
Niagra,
The Knickerbockers,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.