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 Dominican Republic and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Severed Heads,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mad Mike,
Quadrant,
Maleditus Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Surgeon,
The Monochrome Set,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
The Trojans,
Warsaw,
Soul II Soul,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Unwound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roxette,
Skriet,
F. McDonald,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Guru Guru,
Scientists,
Desert Stars,
Massinfluence,
The Tremeloes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Average White Band,
X-101,
Aswad,
Avey Tare,
Angry Samoans,
Mark Hollis,
E-Dancer,
Talk Talk,
Hot Snakes,
Josef K,
David Bowie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neu!,
Eve St. Jones,
Yazoo,
The Moleskins,
Rufus Thomas,
Tom Boy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Newcleus,
AZ,
a-ha,
Eli Mardock,
Flipper,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Wyatt,
the Germs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Porter Ricks,
OOIOO,
The Buckinghams,
Fluxion,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.