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 Netherlands and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
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 oboe 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 Carl Craig to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
The Black Dice,
The Star Department,
Idris Muhammad,
Smog,
Derrick May,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dual Sessions,
Audionom,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lungfish,
Japan,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
Stetsasonic,
Icehouse,
48th St. Collective,
Boredoms,
K-Klass,
Sound Behaviour,
The Stooges,
La Düsseldorf,
Unrelated Segments,
the Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Mission of Burma,
Animal Collective,
L. Decosne,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
Terrestrial Tones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
New Order,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smoke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Altered Images,
John Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Kerri Chandler,
Eli Mardock,
Ultravox,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
Wire,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Golliwogs,
Colin Newman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.