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 Denmark and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 The Standells to the dance 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Bar-Kays,
Unrelated Segments,
Con Funk Shun,
Henry Cow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crash Course in Science,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pretty Things,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Smooth,
Amon Düül,
Zero Boys,
The Fortunes,
John Holt,
Pere Ubu,
Dennis Brown,
Man Parrish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Groovy Waters,
Slick Rick,
The Gun Club,
Eurythmics,
Lou Christie,
The Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rites of Spring,
The Move,
Jawbox,
Crooked Eye,
The Stooges,
Nils Olav,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ossler,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
the Slits,
Lucky Dragons,
David McCallum,
The American Breed,
The Evens,
Flipper,
Unwound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Tremeloes,
Nirvana,
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
The Trojans,
Dual Sessions,
Maurizio,
The Knickerbockers,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dirtbombs,
The Offenders,
Sällskapet,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.