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 Sri Lanka and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Associates to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
Yusef Lateef,
R.M.O.,
Masters at Work,
The Invisible,
Public Enemy,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yellowson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suburban Knight,
Negative Approach,
This Heat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wire,
Kenny Larkin,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
Darondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Audionom,
Jeff Mills,
OOIOO,
DJ Sneak,
The Grass Roots,
Moss Icon,
Godley & Creme,
New Age Steppers,
Cybotron,
Chris Corsano,
Adolescents,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
Ohio Players,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Country Teasers,
Crime,
The Neon Judgement,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultravox,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pagans,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Carl Craig,
Reagan Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sällskapet,
The Skatalites,
Barrington Levy,
Maurizio,
Mo-Dettes,
Joy Division,
Erasure,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.