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 Andorra and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the funk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Leonard Cohen,
The Names,
Television,
Monolake,
The Golliwogs,
Livin' Joy,
Echospace,
Jerry's Kids,
48th St. Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Hood,
Ituana,
Bush Tetras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harry Pussy,
Idris Muhammad,
X-Ray Spex,
The Selecter,
Black Flag,
The Victims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tom Boy,
Groovy Waters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Fela Kuti,
The Young Rascals,
Dawn Penn,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hashim,
Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Malaria!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Ultra Naté,
Roxy Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jacob Miller,
The Evens,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Patti Smith,
DJ Style,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
Con Funk Shun,
Cybotron,
Maurizio,
UT,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.