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 Bhutan and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Intrusion to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
DNA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sister Nancy,
OOIOO,
John Holt,
The Knickerbockers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
Depeche Mode,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cowsills,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Smog,
Bronski Beat,
Shoche,
Althea and Donna,
Amazonics,
Negative Approach,
Ultimate Spinach,
Excepter,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Evens,
The Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
Tom Boy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sound Behaviour,
Minor Threat,
Kas Product,
The Star Department,
Pere Ubu,
Blake Baxter,
Sparks,
Easy Going,
John Lydon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Malaria!,
Mo-Dettes,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.