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 Indonesia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Red Krayola,
Isaac Hayes,
Wolf Eyes,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pere Ubu,
The Martian,
A Certain Ratio,
Reuben Wilson,
The Modern Lovers,
Skarface,
Subhumans,
Basic Channel,
Make Up,
Suburban Knight,
Amazonics,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick May,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Green,
The Moody Blues,
Quadrant,
John Foxx,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül,
the Swans,
Altered Images,
Grandmaster Flash,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barrington Levy,
Second Layer,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
Easy Going,
The Vogues,
Agitation Free,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Stiv Bators,
Gang of Four,
Clear Light,
Newcleus,
Surgeon,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Con Funk Shun,
the Bar-Kays,
U.S. Maple,
Goldenarms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Leaves,
The Evens,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Interpol,
the Slits,
Average White Band,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.