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 Zimbabwe and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Main Source,
Kenny Larkin,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
New Age Steppers,
Maurizio,
The Associates,
The Black Dice,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Golliwogs,
Ultravox,
Sonic Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lyres,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
KRS-One,
Gong,
John Holt,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Accadde A,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
Quando Quango,
Bob Dylan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Harmonia,
Wally Richardson,
Connie Case,
48th St. Collective,
MC5,
Alton Ellis,
Von Mondo,
Yazoo,
Zapp,
The Dead C,
Minny Pops,
Janne Schatter,
The American Breed,
The Gap Band,
Eli Mardock,
Terry Callier,
Robert Wyatt,
The Angels of Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pantytec,
Byron Stingily,
D'Angelo,
Thompson Twins,
the Slits,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.