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 Antigua and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
The Techniques,
Underground Resistance,
Lower 48,
Whodini,
Unwound,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
Idris Muhammad,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Chrome,
The Wake,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chris Corsano,
Rotary Connection,
Ultra Naté,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pere Ubu,
Brothers Johnson,
Nirvana,
June of 44,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang of Four,
Eurythmics,
the Bar-Kays,
The Buckinghams,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kaleidoscope,
Sugar Minott,
Minny Pops,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Görl,
Quadrant,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vainqueur,
Janne Schatter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Standells,
Deadbeat,
Bill Near,
Quantec,
Maurizio,
Pagans,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
David Axelrod,
Hoover,
The Pretty Things,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.