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 Mali 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the crunk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Scott Walker,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stetsasonic,
Fela Kuti,
The Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
June of 44,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donald Byrd,
Deepchord,
Skriet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Sneak,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang of Four,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
The Red Krayola,
Metal Thangz,
Supertramp,
Black Pus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Charles Mingus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Bar-Kays,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The J.B.'s,
Shoche,
The Golliwogs,
Franke,
The Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Grauzone,
Television,
Rhythm & Sound,
Negative Approach,
Arcadia,
The Raincoats,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mars,
The Busters,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Main Source,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Animal Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Brand Nubian,
Gichy Dan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.