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 Luxembourg and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Franke,
Alison Limerick,
Kevin Saunderson,
Can,
Easy Going,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Style,
New Order,
Yaz,
Camouflage,
Gong,
Agitation Free,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Procol Harum,
The Litter,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Wake,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Andrew Hill,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
Bootsy Collins,
MC5,
Unrelated Segments,
The Stooges,
Whodini,
Average White Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Laurel Aitken,
Mantronix,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
DNA,
Deepchord,
The Fuzztones,
Mandrill,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
Hardrive,
Sight & Sound,
Fugazi,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aural Exciters,
Juan Atkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Public Image Ltd.,
Khruangbin,
Circle Jerks,
The Misunderstood,
The Fall,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gories,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.