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 Comoros and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Doobie Brothers to the dance 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultra Naté,
Country Teasers,
The Residents,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
Mandrill,
The Birthday Party,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sällskapet,
David Bowie,
Sparks,
The Toasters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pere Ubu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Black Moon,
Index,
Underground Resistance,
Second Layer,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
X-102,
Popol Vuh,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Althea and Donna,
Deepchord,
Nils Olav,
The Golliwogs,
Lucky Dragons,
ABBA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lyres,
Gastr Del Sol,
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
Sound Behaviour,
Drexciya,
Crispy Ambulance,
Malaria!,
Fad Gadget,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Archie Shepp,
Erasure,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Don Cherry,
Nico,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Arcadia,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.