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 Yemen and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 The Searchers to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Real Kids,
Delta 5,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Saints,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacques Brel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lakeside,
Henry Cow,
Maleditus Sound,
ABC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
B.T. Express,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ronan,
Drexciya,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Quando Quango,
Arab on Radar,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Divine Comedy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Magazine,
Black Sheep,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eden Ahbez,
Throbbing Gristle,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Tremeloes,
David Bowie,
The Kinks,
Black Bananas,
The Cure,
Roger Hodgson,
Fat Boys,
L. Decosne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Mojo Men,
The Electric Prunes,
Aswad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Subhumans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Grey Daturas,
Suburban Knight,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun City Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.