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 Cyprus and from Mumbai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the crunk 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
F. McDonald,
Stereo Dub,
The Cowsills,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
Gabor Szabo,
Clear Light,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fall,
Deadbeat,
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gong,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Arcadia,
Derrick Morgan,
Crooked Eye,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Görl,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wings,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Depeche Mode,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dave Gahan,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Desert Stars,
Eddi Front,
Eden Ahbez,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter & Gordon,
Fat Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
Joensuu 1685,
Supertramp,
Niagra,
Bobby Sherman,
Siglo XX,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tubeway Army,
Zero Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Pop Group,
Rites of Spring,
Second Layer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.