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 Thailand and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jesper Dahlback 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Darondo,
Matthew Bourne,
Siglo XX,
The Fuzztones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Youth Brigade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Buckinghams,
Circle Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Minutemen,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
Delta 5,
Jawbox,
Radio Birdman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hashim,
Underground Resistance,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Wyatt,
Quantec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
Absolute Body Control,
Severed Heads,
The Slits,
Icehouse,
The Toasters,
Sight & Sound,
Magma,
Bill Near,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aswad,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
Max Romeo,
the Association,
Lindisfarne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Frankie Knuckles,
MDC,
Gong,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heaven 17,
Scion,
The Remains,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.