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 Benin and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Eric Copeland to the rap 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
Gastr Del Sol,
Khruangbin,
Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Supertramp,
L. Decosne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maurizio,
Cluster,
Eric Dolphy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Normal,
The Velvet Underground,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
Ludus,
Nico,
The Zeros,
Chris Corsano,
Idris Muhammad,
Procol Harum,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Near,
Byron Stingily,
Guru Guru,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Erasure,
Mary Jane Girls,
Goldenarms,
Alton Ellis,
The Tremeloes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Real Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
The Angels of Light,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid,
Sonic Youth,
Unwound,
Arab on Radar,
Underground Resistance,
Kenny Larkin,
The Last Poets,
Fela Kuti,
The United States of America,
Rod Modell,
Camberwell Now,
Vladislav Delay,
Magma,
Junior Murvin,
Sam Rivers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-101,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.