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 United States and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Rekid to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
The Sound,
Lyres,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Move,
Ultravox,
Sun City Girls,
Desert Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Moebius,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Patti Smith,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alton Ellis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Royal Trux,
Ohio Players,
Crime,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Slits,
Camberwell Now,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ornette Coleman,
Simply Red,
LL Cool J,
Scrapy,
Infiniti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man,
Yusef Lateef,
Sixth Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Malaria!,
Bronski Beat,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
the Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Roger Hodgson,
Warren Ellis,
Japan,
the Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Depeche Mode,
Derrick Morgan,
Spandau Ballet,
Vainqueur,
Radiohead,
The Five Americans,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Alison Limerick,
Don Cherry,
Los Fastidios,
Fad Gadget,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.