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 Dominica and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Morten Harket to the techno 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Subhumans,
Boredoms,
Zero Boys,
Unwound,
The Cure,
Gang Starr,
Tubeway Army,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Main Source,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter and Kerry,
Sarah Menescal,
the Sonics,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Five Americans,
Oblivians,
Scientists,
Masters at Work,
Lalo Schifrin,
Suburban Knight,
Black Sheep,
The Wake,
Black Flag,
Chris & Cosey,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
The Fortunes,
Alton Ellis,
Gil Scott Heron,
June Days,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rufus Thomas,
Pantaleimon,
Nils Olav,
Q65,
Nik Kershaw,
Quadrant,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Leaves,
Monolake,
Essential Logic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
China Crisis,
Tears for Fears,
The Move,
Lower 48,
the Germs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quantec,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Normal,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.