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 Belize and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Theoretical Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Skatalites,
The Flesh Eaters,
The New Christs,
Nils Olav,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
China Crisis,
Eli Mardock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stiv Bators,
Animal Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Faust,
Chris & Cosey,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Görl,
Sun City Girls,
Rakim,
Second Layer,
Toni Rubio,
Scratch Acid,
Wings,
Minny Pops,
Ohio Players,
Pierre Henry,
Maurizio,
Organ,
Amazonics,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy Collins,
Moebius,
Metal Thangz,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mr. Review,
Japan,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Severed Heads,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
the Association,
Pylon,
Siglo XX,
Half Japanese,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
Jeff Mills,
Panda Bear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
kango's stein massive,
Harry Pussy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The United States of America,
Terry Callier,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.