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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Cybotron 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Kerri Chandler,
Tubeway Army,
Black Bananas,
Barry Ungar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Junior Murvin,
The Vogues,
New Age Steppers,
Mo-Dettes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
The Durutti Column,
Cybotron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Goldenarms,
Arthur Verocai,
Sister Nancy,
The Index,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
Television Personalities,
Marcia Griffiths,
Archie Shepp,
Porter Ricks,
Lakeside,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aswad,
Lower 48,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warsaw,
China Crisis,
Au Pairs,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Swell Maps,
Slave,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Flag,
Radio Birdman,
The Young Rascals,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Essential Logic,
The Beau Brummels,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Görl,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brand Nubian,
Alphaville,
Scott Walker,
Pole,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
X-102,
The Names,
Howard Jones,
The Human League,
Bobbi Humphrey,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.