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 Malta and from New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Deepchord to the dance 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scrapy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Almond,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Joe Smooth,
Max Romeo,
ABC,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
Mad Mike,
Neu!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mandrill,
Erasure,
Todd Terry,
Scan 7,
Animal Collective,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quadrant,
Delta 5,
Marmalade,
Danielle Patucci,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
Fela Kuti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Green,
Black Bananas,
Quando Quango,
Byron Stingily,
The Sonics,
Lyres,
Suburban Knight,
Alton Ellis,
Howard Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
U.S. Maple,
Liliput,
Mantronix,
The Wake,
Fad Gadget,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Angry Samoans,
Sarah Menescal,
Guru Guru,
Maurizio,
Gong,
Bobby Womack,
Swans,
Wasted Youth,
Nas,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.