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 Kuwait and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare to the techno 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Fortunes,
Ultra Naté,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gregory Isaacs,
The New Christs,
The Cowsills,
Newcleus,
The Martian,
Sam Rivers,
Boredoms,
Unwound,
Minutemen,
Desert Stars,
World's Most,
Roxette,
Cecil Taylor,
Bush Tetras,
Shoche,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kurtis Blow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heaven 17,
The Mojo Men,
Donny Hathaway,
Arcadia,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
Cybotron,
Grauzone,
DNA,
Fatback Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Skaos,
The Moleskins,
Wings,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Reuben Wilson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alice Coltrane,
Inner City,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sister Nancy,
Steve Hackett,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Funky Four + One,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Sneak,
Soulsonic Force,
Joy Division,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.