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 Kiribati and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tropical Tobacco to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
Theoretical Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lalann,
Magma,
Q65,
Kerri Chandler,
Clear Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cure,
Don Cherry,
Nik Kershaw,
Sam Rivers,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
Wally Richardson,
the Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Godley & Creme,
Bluetip,
Moss Icon,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
Pagans,
Accadde A,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
The Sonics,
Erasure,
Ronan,
The Fugs,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Names,
Ohio Players,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dual Sessions,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Silicon Teens,
The Divine Comedy,
Aswad,
The Motions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Maleditus Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Dolphy,
John Lydon,
Can,
Scott Walker,
Glenn Branca,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.