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 Norway and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb 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 The Associates to the dance 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Jacob Miller,
Ossler,
Sparks,
Black Pus,
Urselle,
Al Stewart,
Cymande,
Bauhaus,
Rekid,
Yaz,
Animal Collective,
The Vogues,
Cameo,
Parry Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ohio Players,
Carl Craig,
Liliput,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
Flamin' Groovies,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tom Boy,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
Circle Jerks,
Iggy Pop,
Moss Icon,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers,
The Remains,
Soft Cell,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Average White Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Minor Threat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Bowie,
Yazoo,
X-Ray Spex,
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sällskapet,
The Stooges,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sound,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.