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 Sierra Leone and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Black Bananas to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Inner City,
Spoonie Gee,
kango's stein massive,
Chrome,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Q65,
Arthur Verocai,
JFA,
Television Personalities,
Flash Fearless,
the Bar-Kays,
Suicide,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rotary Connection,
Spandau Ballet,
Qualms,
Rites of Spring,
Suburban Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Make Up,
Aural Exciters,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
F. McDonald,
Fat Boys,
Soul II Soul,
The Gories,
Ludus,
The Mummies,
The Victims,
Massinfluence,
The Leaves,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Bang On A Can,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Zero Boys,
Neu!,
Reuben Wilson,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
The Five Americans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marvin Gaye,
Terrestrial Tones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young,
UT,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Con Funk Shun,
Gabor Szabo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pierre Henry,
U.S. Maple,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.