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 Brunei and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 Black Bananas to the rock 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Pus,
Amon Düül,
Piero Umiliani,
X-101,
Magazine,
Gabor Szabo,
ABC,
X-102,
Groovy Waters,
The Misunderstood,
Harry Pussy,
Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Smog,
Crime,
June Days,
Pole,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
The Cowsills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fall,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
Freddie Wadling,
Amon Düül II,
Chris Corsano,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aaron Thompson,
Wire,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
CMW,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
The Cramps,
Roxy Music,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scrapy,
Ituana,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Scion,
Maurizio,
Unwound,
Dave Gahan,
Ultravox,
Bob Dylan,
Glenn Branca,
Iggy Pop,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Red Krayola,
Alphaville,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.