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 Ecuador and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Gong to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Slick Rick,
The Vogues,
Franke,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nico,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
The Grass Roots,
the Germs,
Deadbeat,
Deepchord,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
The Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arcadia,
Ohio Players,
Agent Orange,
Main Source,
Aaron Thompson,
Groovy Waters,
Barrington Levy,
Joensuu 1685,
MDC,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oneida,
Jacob Miller,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Ornette Coleman,
DJ Style,
Patti Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Michelle Simonal,
Pole,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris Corsano,
Outsiders,
Hasil Adkins,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tim Buckley,
Sonic Youth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deakin,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sonny Sharrock,
Spandau Ballet,
Vladislav Delay,
Liliput,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.