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 Tunisia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Derrick Morgan to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dave Gahan,
Cecil Taylor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sight & Sound,
OOIOO,
Masters at Work,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moby Grape,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Wells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magazine,
Jeff Lynne,
Quando Quango,
The Offenders,
Theoretical Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Malaria!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Flamin' Groovies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pantytec,
Fad Gadget,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glenn Branca,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Television,
Lou Christie,
Lakeside,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Terry Callier,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter & Gordon,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare,
The Saints,
Iggy Pop,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Moody Blues,
Sugar Minott,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Oneida,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Basic Channel,
The Monochrome Set,
DNA,
the Association,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.