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 Dominica and from Lyon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Eric Dolphy to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brand Nubian,
Pussy Galore,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Crooked Eye,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry's Kids,
Yazoo,
The Evens,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
This Heat,
Unrelated Segments,
The Move,
The Smiths,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Ronnie Foster,
the Human League,
The Associates,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Easy Going,
FM Einheit,
Country Teasers,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
Agitation Free,
Al Stewart,
Tubeway Army,
CMW,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Q and Not U,
Magma,
The New Christs,
DJ Sneak,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ludus,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Starr,
China Crisis,
the Association,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Wells,
The Beau Brummels,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moby Grape,
The Music Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young,
The Mummies,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
R.M.O.,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.