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 Uruguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul Sonic Force,
Toni Rubio,
U.S. Maple,
Rapeman,
The Grass Roots,
Patti Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Magazine,
Gang Green,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Hill,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Henry Cow,
Susan Cadogan,
The Searchers,
PIL,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fat Boys,
B.T. Express,
The Barracudas,
Youth Brigade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Magma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gap Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monks,
The Offenders,
Depeche Mode,
Cymande,
Sugar Minott,
The Dirtbombs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soul II Soul,
Aswad,
Sällskapet,
Archie Shepp,
Aaron Thompson,
Dawn Penn,
Harmonia,
OOIOO,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Rundgren,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
This Heat,
Masters at Work,
Simply Red,
Carl Craig,
The Raincoats,
Crooked Eye,
The Pop Group,
Zero Boys,
Scientists,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.