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 Japan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Circle Jerks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
The Real Kids,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Rufus Thomas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Charles Mingus,
Jacques Brel,
Warsaw,
The Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
The Grass Roots,
Livin' Joy,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
The Cramps,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Soul II Soul,
The Kinks,
Lower 48,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camouflage,
the Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Model 500,
Rekid,
UT,
The Fuzztones,
Lakeside,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun City Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delta 5,
Schoolly D,
Tom Boy,
Organ,
Anthony Braxton,
Glenn Branca,
Crash Course in Science,
The Red Krayola,
Au Pairs,
Echospace,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Fugazi,
Jeru the Damaja,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cure,
The Misunderstood,
Roger Hodgson,
The Neon Judgement,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.