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 Romania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Piero Umiliani to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Index,
Depeche Mode,
L. Decosne,
Scratch Acid,
R.M.O.,
Clear Light,
Idris Muhammad,
Cymande,
The Black Dice,
Letta Mbulu,
The Knickerbockers,
Pere Ubu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
In Retrospect,
Lightning Bolt,
DJ Style,
Bobby Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
Oneida,
Ronnie Foster,
Ludus,
Suburban Knight,
Khruangbin,
Wasted Youth,
Icehouse,
Morten Harket,
Ultravox,
The Cure,
Prince Buster,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Starr,
Metal Thangz,
Bad Manners,
Scan 7,
Procol Harum,
the Bar-Kays,
The Zeros,
The Neon Judgement,
The United States of America,
B.T. Express,
Rakim,
Black Pus,
Camberwell Now,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Connie Case,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hashim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.