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 Thailand and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Shoche,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Womack,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Dark Day,
Jeff Mills,
Angry Samoans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nils Olav,
Godley & Creme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Suicide,
Panda Bear,
The Music Machine,
Sandy B,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sugar Minott,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
Donny Hathaway,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Litter,
AZ,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
the Slits,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
The Offenders,
Aloha Tigers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marine Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Scratch Acid,
The Invisible,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
Niagra,
Derrick May,
Anthony Braxton,
New Order,
Eli Mardock,
Camouflage,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dead Boys,
Scion,
L. Decosne,
Black Pus,
Archie Shepp,
The Moody Blues,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.