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 Palau and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pussy Galore to the grunge 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Görl,
The Index,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
Warren Ellis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Erykah Badu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Talk Talk,
Ituana,
Johnny Clarke,
The Techniques,
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
Yaz,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hoover,
FM Einheit,
The Black Dice,
La Düsseldorf,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
the Human League,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Steve Hackett,
Oblivians,
Sex Pistols,
a-ha,
The Zeros,
PIL,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cheater Slicks,
Fear,
Marine Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
Audionom,
John Holt,
Isaac Hayes,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
The Victims,
Max Romeo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Maurizio,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
Crash Course in Science,
Amazonics,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.