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 Papua New Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Massinfluence to the techno 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Ten City,
Minor Threat,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gastr Del Sol,
F. McDonald,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra,
Kevin Saunderson,
Al Stewart,
Stetsasonic,
The Golliwogs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Smooth,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Average White Band,
Delta 5,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
Steve Hackett,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Ornette Coleman,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mojo Men,
Anakelly,
L. Decosne,
Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
Nas,
Second Layer,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Interpol,
Suburban Knight,
Icehouse,
Oblivians,
Bob Dylan,
Slave,
Ituana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Sheep,
Depeche Mode,
Agitation Free,
Banda Bassotti,
D'Angelo,
Audionom,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deepchord,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Franke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.