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 Suriname and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Dorothy Ashby to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Lungfish,
Thompson Twins,
The Velvet Underground,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Angry Samoans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Rundgren,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tubeway Army,
Barbara Tucker,
The Skatalites,
Popol Vuh,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sonic Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Quantec,
Sixth Finger,
Magazine,
Anakelly,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reagan Youth,
The Smoke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Don Cherry,
Laurel Aitken,
Johnny Clarke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Kinks,
Boz Scaggs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Silicon Teens,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harmonia,
The Tremeloes,
Brothers Johnson,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
Derrick May,
Hasil Adkins,
Al Stewart,
Eli Mardock,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Erykah Badu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
KRS-One,
Marc Almond,
Josef K,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.