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 Bolivia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fat Boys to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marine Girls,
Jawbox,
New York Dolls,
The Smoke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Accadde A,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tubeway Army,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crash Course in Science,
Henry Cow,
Prince Buster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Franke,
Deakin,
The Zeros,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mantronix,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camouflage,
Sun City Girls,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Underground Resistance,
Chrome,
The Remains,
Tim Buckley,
The Golliwogs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sandy B,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül,
Steve Hackett,
Guru Guru,
Pole,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zapp,
Chris Corsano,
the Normal,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
Section 25,
Angry Samoans,
Aloha Tigers,
Soulsonic Force,
Quando Quango,
The Gories,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Easy Going,
The Offenders,
The Buckinghams,
The Motions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pulsallama,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.