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 Liberia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grandmaster Flash to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche 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?
Lungfish,
Eve St. Jones,
Scientists,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donald Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
Mr. Review,
FM Einheit,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Germs,
Can,
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
kango's stein massive,
The Cowsills,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy Collins,
Young Marble Giants,
Q65,
Subhumans,
Boz Scaggs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fatback Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Porter Ricks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
The Toasters,
Lyres,
Groovy Waters,
Pere Ubu,
Matthew Bourne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Halsall,
Y Pants,
Mad Mike,
Section 25,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Don Cherry,
Sister Nancy,
Dark Day,
Sex Pistols,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lower 48,
Maurizio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rekid,
Nirvana,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Residents,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.