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 Bhutan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Brass Construction to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Cluster,
Yaz,
Grey Daturas,
Qualms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monolake,
Peter & Gordon,
The Names,
Nick Fraelich,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Unwound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Buzzcocks,
The Offenders,
Soft Machine,
Ohio Players,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
The Angels of Light,
Negative Approach,
One Last Wish,
Surgeon,
Q65,
Aloha Tigers,
Carl Craig,
Bill Wells,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roger Hodgson,
Sam Rivers,
Yazoo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Scott Walker,
Albert Ayler,
The Move,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Hot Snakes,
Sound Behaviour,
Liliput,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fugs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Hill,
cv313,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Groovy Waters,
Suburban Knight,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.