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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Procol Harum to the crunk 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Panda Bear,
Ituana,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wasted Youth,
Black Flag,
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Selecter,
Negative Approach,
Bluetip,
Pulsallama,
Lalo Schifrin,
Swell Maps,
New Order,
Circle Jerks,
Flipper,
Rapeman,
Deepchord,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Skatalites,
Brand Nubian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Techniques,
Jacques Brel,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Dark Day,
Royal Trux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cure,
Yazoo,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
Talk Talk,
The Knickerbockers,
Darondo,
Ken Boothe,
Arcadia,
Accadde A,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fatback Band,
Brick,
PIL,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Iggy Pop,
Eve St. Jones,
D'Angelo,
The Angels of Light,
Theoretical Girls,
Nils Olav,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
James White and The Blacks,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.