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 Burkina and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 June of 44 to the rap 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
the Normal,
Wally Richardson,
the Soft Cell,
The Beau Brummels,
Spoonie Gee,
Oblivians,
John Holt,
Slick Rick,
The Detroit Cobras,
The American Breed,
Gang Starr,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Michelle Simonal,
Severed Heads,
Ronnie Foster,
Schoolly D,
The Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
The Associates,
JFA,
Piero Umiliani,
Chrome,
Goldenarms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Brass Construction,
Mo-Dettes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alice Coltrane,
Unwound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Lynne,
Moby Grape,
Sparks,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
Ronan,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
Joy Division,
Metal Thangz,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Names,
Danielle Patucci,
The Moody Blues,
Donald Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
The Durutti Column,
Gang of Four,
The Victims,
Quando Quango,
the Association,
Amon Düül,
Carl Craig,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fat Boys,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel.
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.