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 Taiwan and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ultra Naté to the grime 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Donny Hathaway,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Severed Heads,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
Intrusion,
Anthony Braxton,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Colin Newman,
Pulsallama,
Scrapy,
Tom Boy,
The Litter,
Groovy Waters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
48th St. Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joensuu 1685,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
The Neon Judgement,
Suicide,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donald Byrd,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dennis Brown,
Tommy Roe,
John Lydon,
A Certain Ratio,
Slick Rick,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Arcadia,
The Sonics,
Clear Light,
Pantytec,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
The Techniques,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echospace,
X-101,
The Modern Lovers,
Nirvana,
Davy DMX,
Nick Fraelich,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.