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 Dominica and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 Ossler to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Alton Ellis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James White and The Blacks,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cowsills,
Black Moon,
Wire,
Tommy Roe,
CMW,
Jerry's Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Duran Duran,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
One Last Wish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Main Source,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacob Miller,
David McCallum,
Piero Umiliani,
Parry Music,
Japan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Little Man,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
Radio Birdman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
This Heat,
Bobby Sherman,
Panda Bear,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boredoms,
a-ha,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Pylon,
Roxette,
Kenny Larkin,
Thompson Twins,
AZ,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Youth Brigade,
DJ Style,
The Names,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.