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 Toronto.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
10cc,
Surgeon,
Smog,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABBA,
Quadrant,
Zapp,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DJ Sneak,
the Bar-Kays,
Schoolly D,
Terry Callier,
Rufus Thomas,
Idris Muhammad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cheater Slicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Television,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Names,
B.T. Express,
Ultra Naté,
The Happenings,
Crispian St. Peters,
La Düsseldorf,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Martian,
Sparks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pagans,
Animal Collective,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
H. Thieme,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül II,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Copeland,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-101,
The Kinks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
Echospace,
Cymande,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang of Four,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Vladislav Delay,
a-ha,
Fluxion,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.