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 Maldives and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crispian St. Peters to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Rapeman,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
ABC,
Icehouse,
Freddie Wadling,
Marc Almond,
Wire,
Liliput,
The Associates,
Monks,
Lyres,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Malaria!,
Juan Atkins,
the Bar-Kays,
Scan 7,
Smog,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wings,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
UT,
Boredoms,
The Star Department,
Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kaleidoscope,
Moby Grape,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Normal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Public Enemy,
Magma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Vainqueur,
Livin' Joy,
Sun Ra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Massinfluence,
Piero Umiliani,
Severed Heads,
Scion,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Talk Talk,
Soul II Soul,
The American Breed,
Dave Gahan,
Letta Mbulu,
Rod Modell,
Bauhaus,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.