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 San Marino and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Roxette to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Black Bananas,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Warren Ellis,
Motorama,
Glenn Branca,
Swell Maps,
June of 44,
Ponytail,
Boredoms,
Grauzone,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rotary Connection,
Negative Approach,
The Birthday Party,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moebius,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nas,
the Swans,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
Chris Corsano,
Kenny Larkin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Carl Craig,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Los Fastidios,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Half Japanese,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
Piero Umiliani,
the Germs,
Kayak,
John Holt,
John Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Danielle Patucci,
KRS-One,
Connie Case,
Moby Grape,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unrelated Segments,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.