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 Tajikistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Section 25 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Mr. Review,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
The Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Minutemen,
the Human League,
Stetsasonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pole,
Gerry Rafferty,
Interpol,
Eric B and Rakim,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Associates,
Popol Vuh,
Slave,
Fad Gadget,
Simply Red,
Yellowson,
LL Cool J,
Godley & Creme,
Al Stewart,
The Beau Brummels,
Aloha Tigers,
Joyce Sims,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Lower 48,
The Sonics,
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Faraquet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Clear Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tropical Tobacco,
AZ,
Audionom,
The Fugs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
The Standells,
Peter and Kerry,
Au Pairs,
Liliput,
New Age Steppers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mars,
Jacques Brel,
Jawbox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Yusef Lateef,
Jandek,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.