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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 John Holt to the funk 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Tom Boy,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television Personalities,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
K-Klass,
Deadbeat,
Moby Grape,
H. Thieme,
Althea and Donna,
The Music Machine,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mark Hollis,
The Fortunes,
Joyce Sims,
The Zeros,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Guru Guru,
The Toasters,
Organ,
Lyres,
Excepter,
Suburban Knight,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
The Motions,
the Soft Cell,
Television,
Ten City,
Wasted Youth,
John Holt,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grauzone,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deepchord,
Anakelly,
The Pop Group,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
Hashim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jerry's Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Pylon,
Rekid,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Yaz,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.