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 Vietnam and from Lagos.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lyres to the rock 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Leaves,
The Sonics,
Harmonia,
Man Parrish,
Hashim,
The Happenings,
Blossom Toes,
The Motions,
Stereo Dub,
T. Rex,
Yazoo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby,
Second Layer,
Silicon Teens,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Stooges,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Style,
Sällskapet,
Donny Hathaway,
Blake Baxter,
Dave Gahan,
Make Up,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
U.S. Maple,
Soulsonic Force,
Hardrive,
Audionom,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
The Five Americans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alphaville,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
Mars,
Robert Hood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Parry Music,
Accadde A,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ken Boothe,
The Associates,
Scott Walker,
Althea and Donna,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Rekid,
Peter and Kerry,
Albert Ayler,
Ornette Coleman,
Blancmange,
Technova,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.