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 Cameroon and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Janne Schatter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Fad Gadget,
The Young Rascals,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Television,
The Fuzztones,
Man Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Visage,
LL Cool J,
Mission of Burma,
Cameo,
The Saints,
Todd Terry,
Half Japanese,
Donny Hathaway,
T. Rex,
The Cramps,
Skriet,
Accadde A,
Surgeon,
Charles Mingus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ornette Coleman,
Hoover,
Tubeway Army,
Stiv Bators,
Make Up,
Sister Nancy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Newcleus,
The Beau Brummels,
Nik Kershaw,
In Retrospect,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
Barry Ungar,
UT,
Barbara Tucker,
Lower 48,
Lebanon Hanover,
Piero Umiliani,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Sandy B,
Albert Ayler,
Eurythmics,
Robert Wyatt,
Alton Ellis,
10cc,
Radiohead,
Terry Callier,
kango's stein massive,
the Human League,
Minnie Riperton,
ABC,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.