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 Guatemala and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Buckinghams 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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
R.M.O.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dave Gahan,
Mark Hollis,
Pantaleimon,
ABC,
La Düsseldorf,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Metal Thangz,
Joe Smooth,
Nirvana,
Scrapy,
Barry Ungar,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Litter,
Graham Central Station,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Durutti Column,
Peter & Gordon,
Country Teasers,
Los Fastidios,
Chris Corsano,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
Scientists,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Searchers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
Ultravox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tears for Fears,
Radio Birdman,
Boz Scaggs,
Cheater Slicks,
Terry Callier,
Von Mondo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric B and Rakim,
KRS-One,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare,
Angry Samoans,
Half Japanese,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Lower 48,
Ornette Coleman,
Ronnie Foster,
L. Decosne,
Pere Ubu,
Ronan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jawbox,
Morten Harket,
Scion,
Unrelated Segments,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.