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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mark Hollis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Hill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Selecter,
Alice Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
Black Bananas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Underground Resistance,
Cheater Slicks,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
Deepchord,
Magazine,
The Moleskins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
Blancmange,
UT,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
L. Decosne,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The United States of America,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Malaria!,
One Last Wish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Aural Exciters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marvin Gaye,
Anakelly,
Gang Green,
Lalo Schifrin,
June Days,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.