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 Colombia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wake to the jazz 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Khruangbin,
The Gories,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mantronix,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terry Callier,
Warsaw,
The Moleskins,
Swans,
Royal Trux,
Pere Ubu,
Drexciya,
Bauhaus,
Kaleidoscope,
Mo-Dettes,
Grey Daturas,
Yazoo,
Interpol,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Yusef Lateef,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Sherman,
Hoover,
The Real Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rekid,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gun Club,
The Blackbyrds,
Lyres,
Kurtis Blow,
June of 44,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Index,
New York Dolls,
June Days,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Second Layer,
Rites of Spring,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Altered Images,
The Doors,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Rundgren,
Das Ding,
Bill Near,
Pierre Henry,
Negative Approach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
Flipper,
The Mummies,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.