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 Norway and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 Cluster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
T. Rex,
Black Bananas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sex Pistols,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
The J.B.'s,
Rekid,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
Zero Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roxette,
Max Romeo,
Harry Pussy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Halsall,
DNA,
Marine Girls,
Gichy Dan,
The Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Wake,
China Crisis,
Guru Guru,
AZ,
Oneida,
Colin Newman,
Ludus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxy Music,
Outsiders,
Cheater Slicks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
Dorothy Ashby,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nils Olav,
Howard Jones,
The Move,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Pantaleimon,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Golliwogs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Dolphy,
Dawn Penn,
Unrelated Segments,
Banda Bassotti,
Thee Headcoats,
The Stooges,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.