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 Sweden and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 United States of America 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
David Bowie,
the Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Circle Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
Ultravox,
Motorama,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nirvana,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Massinfluence,
Reagan Youth,
Second Layer,
Sex Pistols,
The Blackbyrds,
Arab on Radar,
Arthur Verocai,
John Holt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wasted Youth,
the Normal,
The Fire Engines,
Morten Harket,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
DJ Style,
Brass Construction,
a-ha,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lee Hazlewood,
Model 500,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lucky Dragons,
Ohio Players,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DNA,
The Electric Prunes,
Vladislav Delay,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fat Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
UT,
The Gun Club,
Kool Moe Dee,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Danielle Patucci,
Sexual Harrassment,
DJ Sneak,
Neil Young,
Scientists,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.