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 Swaziland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Pantaleimon,
Q and Not U,
The Black Dice,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vainqueur,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
Slave,
World's Most,
Mantronix,
Hot Snakes,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
Whodini,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oneida,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sixth Finger,
Barrington Levy,
Isaac Hayes,
Can,
the Sonics,
Grauzone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Rites of Spring,
The Human League,
The Litter,
Circle Jerks,
Lower 48,
X-102,
Goldenarms,
The Mojo Men,
Jeff Mills,
Graham Central Station,
K-Klass,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Little Man,
One Last Wish,
Heaven 17,
Neu!,
Marmalade,
Erasure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Organ,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.