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 Estonia and from Seoul.
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 Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Moody Blues to the grunge 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
Trumans Water,
Piero Umiliani,
Marvin Gaye,
David Bowie,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wolf Eyes,
The Knickerbockers,
Althea and Donna,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Kas Product,
Funkadelic,
Deadbeat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Delta 5,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nik Kershaw,
K-Klass,
Hardrive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camberwell Now,
Bush Tetras,
Banda Bassotti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The United States of America,
Toni Rubio,
Yazoo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scrapy,
Organ,
The Toasters,
Sandy B,
Tom Boy,
UT,
Tim Buckley,
Shoche,
Section 25,
Warsaw,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ice-T,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter and Kerry,
The Music Machine,
The Beau Brummels,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
Quantec,
Jesper Dahlback,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.