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 San Marino and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Birthday Party to the grunge 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Scientists,
Bob Dylan,
The Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Yaz,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare,
Grey Daturas,
The Raincoats,
Zapp,
The Moody Blues,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Connie Case,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
World's Most,
The Index,
E-Dancer,
Blake Baxter,
Lou Reed,
Rapeman,
Spoonie Gee,
The Smoke,
Excepter,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lyres,
June of 44,
Fluxion,
Cecil Taylor,
Anakelly,
Aswad,
Scrapy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lalann,
Shuggie Otis,
Pagans,
Bobby Sherman,
Juan Atkins,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lucky Dragons,
Bad Manners,
Pere Ubu,
Harry Pussy,
Symarip,
Hardrive,
The Saints,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Niagra,
The Move,
Dorothy Ashby,
Todd Terry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.