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 Afghanistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Leaves to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-101,
Brick,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lungfish,
Skriet,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
The Modern Lovers,
Animal Collective,
Tom Boy,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
John Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Icehouse,
The Residents,
Technova,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soft Machine,
Joe Finger,
The Cramps,
Average White Band,
Nils Olav,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
The Moody Blues,
Main Source,
Freddie Wadling,
Camouflage,
The Cowsills,
La Düsseldorf,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
Spandau Ballet,
Accadde A,
Simply Red,
Nas,
DNA,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fear,
Black Pus,
The Dead C,
Scion,
Janne Schatter,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Laurel Aitken,
Agitation Free,
Von Mondo,
Inner City,
David Bowie,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.