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 Andorra and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Dirtbombs to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
Y Pants,
The Last Poets,
Moebius,
Yellowson,
the Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pylon,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun City Girls,
Shoche,
Tim Buckley,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
AZ,
Ludus,
World's Most,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
10cc,
John Holt,
the Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Yaz,
Schoolly D,
Motorama,
Blancmange,
MC5,
Glenn Branca,
K-Klass,
Hasil Adkins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marvin Gaye,
New York Dolls,
Hashim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sister Nancy,
Freddie Wadling,
Qualms,
Echospace,
The Pretty Things,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Invisible,
The Monks,
Ossler,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eli Mardock,
Dennis Brown,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vainqueur,
Television,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.