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 Belize and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 The Velvet Underground to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
The Seeds,
D'Angelo,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
L. Decosne,
The Pop Group,
Graham Central Station,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Massinfluence,
Flipper,
Make Up,
The Fuzztones,
Davy DMX,
Faust,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minny Pops,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sound,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
Public Enemy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantytec,
Man Parrish,
The Standells,
Patti Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roxy Music,
Rufus Thomas,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DNA,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiohead,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scion,
Prince Buster,
Archie Shepp,
Icehouse,
the Germs,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Al Stewart,
Ronan,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Happenings,
Excepter,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
the Swans,
Agent Orange,
The Busters,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.