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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Rufus Thomas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jawbox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Q and Not U,
Arcadia,
The Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mars,
John Holt,
Thompson Twins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Organ,
Roxette,
Desert Stars,
Negative Approach,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Silicon Teens,
Erykah Badu,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Bowie,
Fat Boys,
Scrapy,
Max Romeo,
Joensuu 1685,
Radiohead,
The Moleskins,
Whodini,
Swans,
The Selecter,
Fear,
Unwound,
Mantronix,
Eric Dolphy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
MC5,
Aloha Tigers,
Crooked Eye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monks,
The Raincoats,
Monolake,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
Trumans Water,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Cluster,
Bobby Sherman,
Barry Ungar,
Donald Byrd,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tomorrow,
Skriet,
The Alarm Clocks,
CMW,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.