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 Zambia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gastr Del Sol to the disco 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Zeros,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cameo,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
Technova,
The Martian,
Kayak,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donald Byrd,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
Groovy Waters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Juan Atkins,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vladislav Delay,
The Walker Brothers,
Cheater Slicks,
Sound Behaviour,
Kurtis Blow,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Radiohead,
Echospace,
Crime,
The Gun Club,
Das Ding,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül II,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flash Fearless,
Derrick May,
Sarah Menescal,
Royal Trux,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
Au Pairs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Blossom Toes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joe Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Yellowson,
Lower 48,
Jacques Brel,
The Skatalites,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.