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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the techno 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
Funky Four + One,
K-Klass,
Matthew Halsall,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
John Lydon,
Moby Grape,
The Cure,
The Red Krayola,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fatback Band,
Faust,
Metal Thangz,
DNA,
Angry Samoans,
Funkadelic,
The Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
Piero Umiliani,
Albert Ayler,
MC5,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
EPMD,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
The Monochrome Set,
Sixth Finger,
Archie Shepp,
Nico,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Au Pairs,
DJ Style,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The American Breed,
Warren Ellis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Audionom,
Chrome,
Jawbox,
Interpol,
Q and Not U,
Japan,
Goldenarms,
Mark Hollis,
Zapp,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.