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 Monaco and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Deepchord to the techno 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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
This Heat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Supertramp,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blues Magoos,
K-Klass,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Litter,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Make Up,
Vladislav Delay,
June Days,
The Fugs,
Excepter,
Sister Nancy,
Leonard Cohen,
Kaleidoscope,
The Misunderstood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
John Lydon,
The Vogues,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
Man Parrish,
Scott Walker,
Godley & Creme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
Urselle,
Soul Sonic Force,
Patti Smith,
Scion,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
Boredoms,
Black Sheep,
Au Pairs,
Jacob Miller,
Q and Not U,
DNA,
JFA,
Dark Day,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.