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 Tonga and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soft Cell to the funk 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Subhumans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ossler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Raincoats,
John Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Archie Shepp,
Faust,
The Toasters,
Sandy B,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
Vladislav Delay,
The Litter,
China Crisis,
Duran Duran,
The Divine Comedy,
Theoretical Girls,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crooked Eye,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
Rod Modell,
In Retrospect,
Motorama,
Whodini,
Deepchord,
The Gun Club,
Morten Harket,
Kas Product,
Warsaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Görl,
The Knickerbockers,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joy Division,
June Days,
Nik Kershaw,
Monolake,
Massinfluence,
DJ Style,
Neil Young,
Cameo,
The Smiths,
The Names,
The Offenders,
Ultra Naté,
Mr. Review,
ABC,
The Slits,
Hoover,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.