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 Tuvalu and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dead C to the funk 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
Marvin Gaye,
Metal Thangz,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Khruangbin,
The Beau Brummels,
June of 44,
Youth Brigade,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Wells,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Janne Schatter,
Absolute Body Control,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tres Demented,
The Smiths,
Bad Manners,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed,
Laurel Aitken,
KRS-One,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sister Nancy,
Q65,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Rod Modell,
Skarface,
Smog,
Delta 5,
Brass Construction,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Colin Newman,
Simply Red,
Robert Görl,
Prince Buster,
Mr. Review,
The Human League,
Ohio Players,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang of Four,
Angry Samoans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Martian,
Grauzone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skriet,
The Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
Yusef Lateef,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.