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 Switzerland and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the grime 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Fat Boys,
Robert Görl,
Pantaleimon,
Livin' Joy,
the Soft Cell,
Joensuu 1685,
Banda Bassotti,
Laurel Aitken,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scrapy,
Godley & Creme,
FM Einheit,
F. McDonald,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun City Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
Josef K,
The Monochrome Set,
The Electric Prunes,
Aswad,
Marc Almond,
Wings,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alison Limerick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ponytail,
Warsaw,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Dark Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ohio Players,
Bauhaus,
Minutemen,
The Smoke,
The Moody Blues,
Deadbeat,
Connie Case,
Blancmange,
Excepter,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
Funky Four + One,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Marvin Gaye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Offenders,
Leonard Cohen,
The Star Department,
Absolute Body Control,
Deepchord,
Blake Baxter,
Andrew Hill,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Max Romeo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.