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 St Lucia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The J.B.'s 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Hardrive,
Dave Gahan,
Animal Collective,
Infiniti,
The Selecter,
Wolf Eyes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxy Music,
EPMD,
Bobby Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Wyatt,
Yaz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Spoonie Gee,
The Move,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
U.S. Maple,
Stereo Dub,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed,
Henry Cow,
The Associates,
Blake Baxter,
The Fuzztones,
Prince Buster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Television Personalities,
Sam Rivers,
Silicon Teens,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
Boredoms,
Loose Ends,
OOIOO,
Amazonics,
The Invisible,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
The Offenders,
Black Sheep,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
Con Funk Shun,
Second Layer,
The Sonics,
Clear Light,
Roxette,
Warren Ellis,
Tres Demented,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.