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 Honduras and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roxette to the crunk 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Yusef Lateef,
The Monks,
Babytalk,
Absolute Body Control,
Peter and Kerry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The United States of America,
Bang On A Can,
The Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
UT,
Eddi Front,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Bush Tetras,
Blake Baxter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tres Demented,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lindisfarne,
The Techniques,
Aural Exciters,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marmalade,
Jawbox,
The Moody Blues,
Pere Ubu,
Minutemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q and Not U,
Siglo XX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
Blossom Toes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sällskapet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal,
the Human League,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Letta Mbulu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
T. Rex,
The Raincoats,
The Fortunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Pus,
The Searchers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kayak,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.