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 Guyana and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Con Funk Shun to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
John Cale,
Franke,
The Tremeloes,
Sex Pistols,
Rosa Yemen,
The Saints,
Jandek,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Moleskins,
U.S. Maple,
John Lydon,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
Joe Smooth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
Yellowson,
Porter Ricks,
The Evens,
Organ,
Tubeway Army,
Pole,
Mr. Review,
Visage,
Flipper,
Cymande,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tom Boy,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
The Raincoats,
The Victims,
Bad Manners,
Crime,
Intrusion,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Icehouse,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
Pulsallama,
Bob Dylan,
Davy DMX,
Symarip,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brand Nubian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tim Buckley,
Kevin Saunderson,
R.M.O.,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.