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 Tanzania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the funk 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Godley & Creme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pagans,
Cluster,
The Fugs,
Bang On A Can,
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Buzzcocks,
Marvin Gaye,
The Searchers,
Ronan,
Bootsy Collins,
The Move,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Beau Brummels,
Stetsasonic,
Soulsonic Force,
L. Decosne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang of Four,
Todd Terry,
Camouflage,
Country Teasers,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Womack,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faraquet,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lightning Bolt,
Darondo,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
Anthony Braxton,
CMW,
Loose Ends,
Main Source,
Gong,
The Trojans,
Technova,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Blues Magoos,
DNA,
Flamin' Groovies,
Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Wasted Youth,
Morten Harket,
Nirvana,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.