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 Netherlands and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Sugar Minott,
Wings,
Sandy B,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ice-T,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Seeds,
James White and The Blacks,
China Crisis,
New York Dolls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pylon,
Judy Mowatt,
PIL,
Trumans Water,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
Nas,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
Roxette,
The Stooges,
June of 44,
Kurtis Blow,
Joy Division,
Rufus Thomas,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux,
Steve Hackett,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sam Rivers,
Siglo XX,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pagans,
Sound Behaviour,
Amazonics,
Y Pants,
The Gun Club,
Gang Green,
the Association,
Yaz,
Susan Cadogan,
Ludus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agent Orange,
Tears for Fears,
Pierre Henry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The New Christs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.