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 Iran and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 James White and The Blacks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Jawbox,
Ludus,
World's Most,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grauzone,
Quantec,
the Soft Cell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soulsonic Force,
Yazoo,
The Angels of Light,
Stereo Dub,
Oneida,
Pole,
Sonic Youth,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Skatalites,
Spandau Ballet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy Collins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
Black Pus,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
Alton Ellis,
Soul II Soul,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warsaw,
Hashim,
Joe Finger,
Eli Mardock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smoke,
Mad Mike,
Delta 5,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare,
Q and Not U,
Henry Cow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiohead,
Tomorrow,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
The Residents,
Bobby Byrd,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Malaria!,
Johnny Clarke,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.