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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moss Icon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Nik Kershaw,
Jeff Mills,
Khruangbin,
Danielle Patucci,
Liliput,
Anakelly,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mummies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Christie,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mark Hollis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minutemen,
Duran Duran,
The Angels of Light,
Darondo,
Zapp,
Blancmange,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Pagans,
The Vogues,
Marmalade,
Accadde A,
Thee Headcoats,
Tommy Roe,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monks,
Robert Wyatt,
Godley & Creme,
Maurizio,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
The J.B.'s,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Bourne,
Reagan Youth,
Suburban Knight,
ABBA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fear,
Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
Newcleus,
The Count Five,
Derrick May,
CMW,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.