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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Popol Vuh to the techno 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
Sonic Youth,
B.T. Express,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Pus,
Black Moon,
The Standells,
John Holt,
Underground Resistance,
The Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Arcadia,
Tom Boy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Spoonie Gee,
Eurythmics,
Bad Manners,
Ten City,
Inner City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cybotron,
Erasure,
Cluster,
Surgeon,
Jeff Mills,
Depeche Mode,
Tears for Fears,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Y Pants,
Mars,
Brass Construction,
Soft Machine,
the Swans,
E-Dancer,
Ponytail,
Mandrill,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Bananas,
Kaleidoscope,
Young Marble Giants,
Khruangbin,
The Toasters,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
the Slits,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Style,
China Crisis,
OOIOO,
Letta Mbulu,
a-ha,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lyres,
The Count Five,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.