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 Tanzania and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 La Düsseldorf to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
The Misunderstood,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Technova,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Moon,
Boredoms,
The J.B.'s,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stockholm Monsters,
Khruangbin,
Von Mondo,
X-101,
Gang Green,
10cc,
Youth Brigade,
The Beau Brummels,
Smog,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
John Holt,
Section 25,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Junior Murvin,
Oneida,
Sparks,
Malaria!,
Todd Rundgren,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Kinks,
the Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Pylon,
Tres Demented,
Ituana,
David Axelrod,
D'Angelo,
Lungfish,
Moby Grape,
Dave Gahan,
Monks,
Al Stewart,
Warren Ellis,
Depeche Mode,
Cecil Taylor,
The Move,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Glambeats Corp.,
Massinfluence,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.