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 the UAE and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Simply Red to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Peter and Kerry,
La Düsseldorf,
The Monks,
David Axelrod,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cal Tjader,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Drive Like Jehu,
Los Fastidios,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dark Day,
Hardrive,
The Gories,
Derrick Morgan,
Gabor Szabo,
Groovy Waters,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry's Kids,
The Black Dice,
The Wake,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Amon Düül,
David Bowie,
Juan Atkins,
Pere Ubu,
Negative Approach,
Bill Near,
DJ Sneak,
In Retrospect,
Carl Craig,
ABBA,
Joey Negro,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bob Dylan,
Half Japanese,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Goldenarms,
Ultra Naté,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
Electric Prunes,
Howard Jones,
Rod Modell,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Cale,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.