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 Seychelles and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 Vladislav Delay to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maurizio,
Robert Wyatt,
F. McDonald,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Finger,
The Litter,
Sugar Minott,
Swans,
The Slits,
Fat Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Faust,
Marine Girls,
Skriet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Aural Exciters,
D'Angelo,
Delon & Dalcan,
MDC,
Hashim,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
The Tremeloes,
Section 25,
Masters at Work,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hoover,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tomorrow,
Subhumans,
Dennis Brown,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Axelrod,
The Angels of Light,
H. Thieme,
Dead Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
New Order,
Altered Images,
Average White Band,
FM Einheit,
June Days,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cal Tjader,
Dark Day,
Ultimate Spinach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Sällskapet,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.