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 Paraguay and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Velvet Underground to the techno 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
Albert Ayler,
the Human League,
Arthur Verocai,
Mary Jane Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Alice Coltrane,
Neil Young,
John Foxx,
Mandrill,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Juan Atkins,
Supertramp,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Young Marble Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Los Fastidios,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacques Brel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wire,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flipper,
Kenny Larkin,
Ten City,
The Toasters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moebius,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nico,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moleskins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Anthony Braxton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
E-Dancer,
Eden Ahbez,
Blake Baxter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fluxion,
The Pretty Things,
Inner City,
Nik Kershaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.