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 Macedonia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DJ Sneak 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Television Personalities,
Rapeman,
Mark Hollis,
Don Cherry,
Niagra,
Dark Day,
Ohio Players,
LL Cool J,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
Colin Newman,
Spandau Ballet,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minor Threat,
Jawbox,
cv313,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
Hoover,
Shuggie Otis,
DNA,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Heaven 17,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mojo Men,
The Pop Group,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Walker Brothers,
X-101,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
Juan Atkins,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Finger,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.