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 Bahrain and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Roy Ayers to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Bad Manners,
Banda Bassotti,
ABC,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Age Steppers,
The Victims,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deadbeat,
Alphaville,
Ten City,
The Skatalites,
The Sonics,
Pere Ubu,
F. McDonald,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fugazi,
The Walker Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Surgeon,
New York Dolls,
Swans,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aaron Thompson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faraquet,
David McCallum,
Brick,
The Techniques,
Bill Wells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Black Dice,
The Star Department,
Vladislav Delay,
Buzzcocks,
Cecil Taylor,
The Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Ossler,
Amon Düül,
Lower 48,
Chrome,
Siglo XX,
Main Source,
Albert Ayler,
The Gun Club,
Sandy B,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Cell,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacques Brel,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.