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 Senegal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Arthur Verocai to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
The Invisible,
Altered Images,
The Young Rascals,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Organ,
Derrick May,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Fat Boys,
Lalann,
Sixth Finger,
Fela Kuti,
Basic Channel,
The Walker Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Inner City,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
Todd Terry,
Unwound,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
Outsiders,
Smog,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Brothers Johnson,
Average White Band,
Gang of Four,
Talk Talk,
The Victims,
The Associates,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Essential Logic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Jandek,
The Star Department,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
a-ha,
Pantaleimon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Mills,
Wings,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quando Quango,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.