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 Montenegro and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Al Stewart to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Flipper,
Vainqueur,
John Coltrane,
Sparks,
Ludus,
Quantec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
Mo-Dettes,
Section 25,
Average White Band,
Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
Anakelly,
The Fortunes,
The Victims,
Patti Smith,
Desert Stars,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Bourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacques Brel,
Sun City Girls,
Ossler,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scion,
cv313,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Glambeats Corp.,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Deepchord,
KRS-One,
Severed Heads,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Audionom,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
Rites of Spring,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magazine,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
The Birthday Party,
Rod Modell,
Sound Behaviour,
In Retrospect,
L. Decosne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Starr,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.