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 Pakistan 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Crooked Eye,
Buzzcocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
Arcadia,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brand Nubian,
Nas,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sonic Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Leonard Cohen,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wings,
Zero Boys,
Jacques Brel,
The Modern Lovers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Intrusion,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pussy Galore,
Pagans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hot Snakes,
Public Enemy,
Interpol,
Donald Byrd,
T. Rex,
Fad Gadget,
Eurythmics,
Lakeside,
Easy Going,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camouflage,
Arthur Verocai,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pole,
Unwound,
Sugar Minott,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fuzztones,
The Five Americans,
Boz Scaggs,
Maleditus Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra,
Massinfluence,
Spandau Ballet,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.