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 Chad and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Tears for Fears to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Audionom,
Thompson Twins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cybotron,
D'Angelo,
Japan,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Guru Guru,
Man Parrish,
The Techniques,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter & Gordon,
Matthew Halsall,
Faraquet,
Pierre Henry,
The Slits,
Black Flag,
Gang of Four,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
The Cowsills,
Althea and Donna,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Moon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suicide,
Wolf Eyes,
Zero Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Pretty Things,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
Quando Quango,
Kaleidoscope,
Vainqueur,
These Immortal Souls,
The Remains,
Mark Hollis,
Brass Construction,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lindisfarne,
Amazonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
AZ,
Schoolly D,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
Animal Collective,
Mandrill,
UT,
Lyres,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.