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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
FM Einheit,
The Pop Group,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tom Boy,
Black Pus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Soft Machine,
H. Thieme,
Mars,
Brothers Johnson,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül,
Crime,
Mad Mike,
Blossom Toes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magma,
Cymande,
Moby Grape,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Sherman,
Rotary Connection,
Jacques Brel,
The Birthday Party,
Mark Hollis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
China Crisis,
The Gories,
Man Parrish,
This Heat,
The Stooges,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Wyatt,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Rosa Yemen,
Harmonia,
Bob Dylan,
Minnie Riperton,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
the Slits,
Magazine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Barracudas,
Dual Sessions,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Pretty Things,
Kerri Chandler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minutemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Finger,
The Blackbyrds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swell Maps,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.