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 Rwanda and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joy Division to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
kango's stein massive,
Audionom,
cv313,
Donny Hathaway,
Saccharine Trust,
Rites of Spring,
Make Up,
Kurtis Blow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terry Callier,
Stetsasonic,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tubeway Army,
Thee Headcoats,
Albert Ayler,
Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultravox,
Jeff Mills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Ludus,
Wasted Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Maurizio,
Pere Ubu,
The Gun Club,
Swell Maps,
a-ha,
Carl Craig,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ornette Coleman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
Skarface,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lou Reed,
The Red Krayola,
Spandau Ballet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ash Ra Tempel,
CMW,
Joe Finger,
Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Iggy Pop,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Age Steppers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Trumans Water,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.