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 Bulgaria and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Real Kids to the disco 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Joey Negro,
The Evens,
Aloha Tigers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Star Department,
Harmonia,
The Real Kids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fear,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tomorrow,
ABBA,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Lungfish,
The Knickerbockers,
the Slits,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-Ray Spex,
Schoolly D,
Pantaleimon,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minutemen,
The Gun Club,
The Golliwogs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Matthew Bourne,
OOIOO,
Ten City,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Monolake,
The Cowsills,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Excepter,
MDC,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
Quantec,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Magazine,
Dawn Penn,
Mad Mike,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Organ,
Al Stewart,
Boredoms,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.