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 Jamaica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Velvet Underground 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood 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?
Dark Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Steve Hackett,
Janne Schatter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Talk Talk,
Wolf Eyes,
The Residents,
The Buckinghams,
Absolute Body Control,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yaz,
Aaron Thompson,
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
EPMD,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Sandy B,
Kerri Chandler,
Shuggie Otis,
Silicon Teens,
K-Klass,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dennis Brown,
John Lydon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mission of Burma,
Sparks,
Ultravox,
The Happenings,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
Skaos,
the Slits,
The Red Krayola,
The Remains,
Max Romeo,
Joy Division,
The Doors,
Donald Byrd,
Neu!,
John Cale,
Stetsasonic,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
cv313,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Erasure,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
F. McDonald,
Isaac Hayes,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.