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 Spain and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Dawn Penn,
Rakim,
Robert Hood,
The Associates,
Hoover,
Ken Boothe,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
Jerry's Kids,
Henry Cow,
Charles Mingus,
Amazonics,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Howard Jones,
The Motions,
Shoche,
John Foxx,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
The Young Rascals,
Trumans Water,
Heaven 17,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
Grey Daturas,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Section 25,
Fear,
the Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
the Normal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pulsallama,
Flipper,
Matthew Halsall,
Cybotron,
Gong,
Wings,
The Raincoats,
Main Source,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Circle Jerks,
Aloha Tigers,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
Banda Bassotti,
Stetsasonic,
Panda Bear,
Japan,
Avey Tare,
Swans,
Intrusion,
Althea and Donna,
Tears for Fears,
Youth Brigade,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.