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 South Africa and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Archie Shepp to the disco 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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül II,
The Star Department,
Spandau Ballet,
Magazine,
Avey Tare,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cramps,
MDC,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hashim,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Barracudas,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
Cal Tjader,
New Age Steppers,
Pere Ubu,
Malaria!,
Kenny Larkin,
Mantronix,
Pharoah Sanders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Human League,
Rod Modell,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
Wings,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Young Marble Giants,
The Monks,
Henry Cow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deepchord,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Joy Division,
Derrick May,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
Massinfluence,
Procol Harum,
Ten City,
Section 25,
The Dirtbombs,
Eurythmics,
Index,
Ken Boothe,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lindisfarne,
Pantaleimon,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.