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 Burkina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ralphi Rosario to the funk 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Ornette Coleman,
Technova,
F. McDonald,
PIL,
Eve St. Jones,
Monolake,
Black Moon,
Massinfluence,
Buzzcocks,
Metal Thangz,
Cecil Taylor,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New Age Steppers,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doobie Brothers,
UT,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxy Music,
The Pop Group,
Model 500,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faraquet,
Ultra Naté,
Black Flag,
Unrelated Segments,
June of 44,
Bluetip,
Suicide,
Bob Dylan,
Joe Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
Tears for Fears,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rekid,
The Golliwogs,
Rites of Spring,
Steve Hackett,
Junior Murvin,
Qualms,
Grauzone,
Brick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Star Department,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
Agitation Free,
Ronnie Foster,
Judy Mowatt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joey Negro,
Camouflage,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
Gregory Isaacs,
Piero Umiliani,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.