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 Kyrgyzstan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Khruangbin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Jawbox,
Aural Exciters,
E-Dancer,
Henry Cow,
Pierre Henry,
Guru Guru,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Banda Bassotti,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
Camberwell Now,
Pulsallama,
Supertramp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Wells,
Man Eating Sloth,
Surgeon,
Yaz,
Neu!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Second Layer,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Japan,
Derrick May,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bizarre Inc.,
CMW,
Panda Bear,
Mandrill,
Slick Rick,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
Underground Resistance,
Kerri Chandler,
Sixth Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lindisfarne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sight & Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fatback Band,
Stetsasonic,
The Count Five,
Derrick Morgan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barrington Levy,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Residents,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.