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 Saudi Arabia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Eddi Front to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
The Pretty Things,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Oneida,
Cal Tjader,
Whodini,
Spoonie Gee,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soul II Soul,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Visage,
Ituana,
Janne Schatter,
The Gories,
Minutemen,
Black Sheep,
Average White Band,
Carl Craig,
Scion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Todd Terry,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
F. McDonald,
Charles Mingus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer,
Lindisfarne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Young Rascals,
Bush Tetras,
The Vogues,
Moebius,
Pole,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flipper,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
The Blues Magoos,
The Stooges,
Joyce Sims,
Heaven 17,
Zapp,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Von Mondo,
Magazine,
The Dead C,
These Immortal Souls,
Lucky Dragons,
Guru Guru,
The Victims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Golliwogs,
Oblivians,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.