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 Papua New Guinea 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light to the jazz 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Alphaville,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Public Enemy,
Soul II Soul,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Buzzcocks,
Con Funk Shun,
Fat Boys,
Amazonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Trumans Water,
Underground Resistance,
David Bowie,
Marvin Gaye,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Angels of Light,
Zapp,
Make Up,
The Birthday Party,
The Stooges,
Archie Shepp,
Qualms,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rekid,
Section 25,
Los Fastidios,
T. Rex,
Ultra Naté,
Malaria!,
Drexciya,
Tropical Tobacco,
Depeche Mode,
Fear,
Monolake,
Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
The Golliwogs,
10cc,
John Lydon,
Sonic Youth,
The Move,
The Fortunes,
OOIOO,
Inner City,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
The Fugs,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Wings,
Colin Newman,
Joey Negro,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Cale,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.