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 Madagascar and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the funk 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick 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?
Frankie Knuckles,
Kenny Larkin,
L. Decosne,
Hashim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Anthony Braxton,
The Music Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kayak,
Eric Copeland,
Terry Callier,
Altered Images,
The Associates,
The Wake,
The Mojo Men,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeff Lynne,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Slackers,
Amazonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grey Daturas,
Mr. Review,
The Techniques,
Swans,
X-102,
The Searchers,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers,
Fatback Band,
Graham Central Station,
The Real Kids,
Essential Logic,
Jandek,
The Selecter,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mummies,
Hot Snakes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cluster,
The Sound,
Sam Rivers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Metal Thangz,
The Neon Judgement,
Motorama,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Althea and Donna,
Alison Limerick,
Deadbeat,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.