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 Iran and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Donny Hathaway to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Harpers Bizarre,
Howard Jones,
Marcia Griffiths,
June of 44,
Letta Mbulu,
Yazoo,
Freddie Wadling,
Buzzcocks,
Wasted Youth,
Harmonia,
Ice-T,
John Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neil Young,
Crime,
Patti Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Underground Resistance,
Aloha Tigers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moleskins,
Erasure,
Joey Negro,
Sly & The Family Stone,
FM Einheit,
Alison Limerick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Happenings,
Absolute Body Control,
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Velvet Underground,
Angry Samoans,
Chrome,
David Bowie,
The Index,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monochrome Set,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Niagra,
Parry Music,
Wings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brick,
Zapp,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
Jeff Mills,
Davy DMX,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Sneak,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Move,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.