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 Moldova and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Drexciya,
Livin' Joy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Davy DMX,
John Cale,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
Joensuu 1685,
Steve Hackett,
Hot Snakes,
Sun Ra,
The Velvet Underground,
The United States of America,
Buzzcocks,
T. Rex,
Los Fastidios,
New York Dolls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vladislav Delay,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
Sarah Menescal,
Rotary Connection,
Gong,
Funky Four + One,
Kaleidoscope,
Urselle,
Scientists,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Misunderstood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vainqueur,
The Human League,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television Personalities,
Moby Grape,
The Fortunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dave Gahan,
Technova,
New Age Steppers,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
Janne Schatter,
Barrington Levy,
Lakeside,
Jawbox,
the Sonics,
Hasil Adkins,
Idris Muhammad,
Bill Wells,
Lalann,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.