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 Ukraine and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ken Boothe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Charles Mingus,
This Heat,
The Last Poets,
Tim Buckley,
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
Chris & Cosey,
Technova,
Mad Mike,
Lucky Dragons,
LL Cool J,
The Human League,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
T. Rex,
Main Source,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mandrill,
Public Enemy,
Von Mondo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Red Krayola,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
Radiohead,
Arcadia,
UT,
Roy Ayers,
Second Layer,
Wally Richardson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
The Doobie Brothers,
F. McDonald,
the Normal,
David Bowie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Goldenarms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dawn Penn,
Sixth Finger,
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
The Blackbyrds,
Metal Thangz,
Isaac Hayes,
Toni Rubio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alton Ellis,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
Eden Ahbez,
Ralphi Rosario,
Skaos,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.