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 New Zealand 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sandy B to the crunk 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Bang On A Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
David Bowie,
World's Most,
Roxette,
Procol Harum,
R.M.O.,
Television,
Matthew Halsall,
John Holt,
the Bar-Kays,
Brand Nubian,
Chrome,
Ornette Coleman,
The Remains,
Panda Bear,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Average White Band,
The Knickerbockers,
kango's stein massive,
Franke,
Slick Rick,
Babytalk,
Pierre Henry,
Nico,
EPMD,
Lakeside,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kayak,
Flash Fearless,
The Busters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rosa Yemen,
Man Parrish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ohio Players,
Groovy Waters,
Arcadia,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultra Naté,
Boz Scaggs,
The Vogues,
Ice-T,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Barracudas,
Das Ding,
Erykah Badu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cameo,
The Index,
Robert Görl,
Yaz,
The Saints,
Visage,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.