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 Rwanda and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rap 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Maleditus Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aaron Thompson,
Bootsy Collins,
Joy Division,
H. Thieme,
Babytalk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
cv313,
John Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deepchord,
Goldenarms,
Von Mondo,
Prince Buster,
Second Layer,
Fear,
The Birthday Party,
Todd Rundgren,
10cc,
Dark Day,
Derrick May,
Bobby Byrd,
The Motions,
The New Christs,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T. Rex,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swans,
Carl Craig,
Lyres,
The Sonics,
The Index,
Barry Ungar,
Barrington Levy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soft Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Wasted Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lindisfarne,
Echospace,
X-101,
Silicon Teens,
Graham Central Station,
Depeche Mode,
Jawbox,
Fat Boys,
Inner City,
The Names,
Lightning Bolt,
Average White Band,
Mark Hollis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brand Nubian,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.