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 Hungary and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Lou Reed 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 Parry Music to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
Make Up,
Joe Smooth,
Talk Talk,
John Cale,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television,
Joe Finger,
Peter & Gordon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joyce Sims,
Letta Mbulu,
Boz Scaggs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nico,
Barrington Levy,
The Leaves,
Slick Rick,
Neil Young,
Guru Guru,
Agent Orange,
AZ,
Procol Harum,
the Sonics,
Vainqueur,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
Monks,
The Victims,
Freddie Wadling,
Archie Shepp,
Harmonia,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Faust,
Cheater Slicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
B.T. Express,
Ituana,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Symarip,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pierre Henry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Prince Buster,
Sun Ra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Amon Düül II,
Moss Icon,
Animal Collective,
Black Sheep,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.