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 Dominican Republic and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Girls At Our Best! to the crunk 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
the Bar-Kays,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
The Music Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Ossler,
The Invisible,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
Scion,
The Skatalites,
Maurizio,
Groovy Waters,
Colin Newman,
Blake Baxter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boredoms,
The Tremeloes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sarah Menescal,
Icehouse,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Style,
Saccharine Trust,
The Searchers,
The Motions,
The Gap Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crime,
Basic Channel,
The Durutti Column,
David Axelrod,
Chrome,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rosa Yemen,
MDC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
E-Dancer,
Gang Green,
The Toasters,
The Smiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q and Not U,
New York Dolls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pagans,
Black Flag,
Television Personalities,
Stockholm Monsters,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Hood,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dawn Penn,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harmonia,
Porter Ricks,
La Düsseldorf,
Second Layer,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.