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 Slovakia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 The Techniques to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Cal Tjader,
Maurizio,
Minnie Riperton,
Magma,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Mars,
The Fortunes,
Siglo XX,
DJ Sneak,
Minny Pops,
Scratch Acid,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Simply Red,
a-ha,
Albert Ayler,
JFA,
Q and Not U,
Mad Mike,
Moby Grape,
The Gun Club,
The Modern Lovers,
Ponytail,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Moon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Absolute Body Control,
Agitation Free,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kurtis Blow,
Barrington Levy,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
The Divine Comedy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monolake,
Carl Craig,
Rakim,
Bill Wells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
The Tremeloes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Buckinghams,
Aloha Tigers,
Gichy Dan,
The Count Five,
The Kinks,
L. Decosne,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Görl,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.