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 Tonga and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 Spandau Ballet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Aural Exciters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultravox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
The Invisible,
The Offenders,
R.M.O.,
Tommy Roe,
Soul II Soul,
Lalann,
Royal Trux,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rod Modell,
Banda Bassotti,
Ludus,
The Blues Magoos,
Slave,
The Gun Club,
Roxette,
Quadrant,
Rekid,
Joensuu 1685,
Nils Olav,
Underground Resistance,
Minnie Riperton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Kerri Chandler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Byron Stingily,
Ornette Coleman,
Sugar Minott,
Nico,
Agent Orange,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mandrill,
Inner City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacob Miller,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arcadia,
The Names,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Real Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roger Hodgson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Age Steppers,
Metal Thangz,
Unwound,
Heaven 17,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.