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 Burkina and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Spoonie Gee to the disco 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Ornette Coleman,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Qualms,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cramps,
The Gladiators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blossom Toes,
Can,
Whodini,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swans,
Magma,
Idris Muhammad,
Pharoah Sanders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Cluster,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Albert Ayler,
The Real Kids,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy,
Pole,
Ronnie Foster,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hashim,
Vainqueur,
The Selecter,
Altered Images,
The New Christs,
Talk Talk,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mars,
Sugar Minott,
Reagan Youth,
The Sound,
Duran Duran,
Eric B and Rakim,
Babytalk,
kango's stein massive,
K-Klass,
Los Fastidios,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scott Walker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.