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 El Salvador and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
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 organ 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 Normal to the grime 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Can,
Maurizio,
John Foxx,
The Gories,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
Motorama,
Mission of Burma,
Thee Headcoats,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
Rosa Yemen,
Rod Modell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
The Grass Roots,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Halsall,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
The Index,
Severed Heads,
Mandrill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Khruangbin,
Nils Olav,
Arab on Radar,
Symarip,
Donny Hathaway,
Minny Pops,
Quadrant,
Al Stewart,
Eli Mardock,
Soft Machine,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Human League,
Scratch Acid,
Dennis Brown,
Q and Not U,
Graham Central Station,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aloha Tigers,
Fear,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
Whodini,
Juan Atkins,
Duran Duran,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doors,
Freddie Wadling,
Josef K,
Reagan Youth,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.