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 Fiji and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
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 David Bowie 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 H. Thieme to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
MC5,
The Fortunes,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
Minutemen,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
One Last Wish,
ABBA,
Pantaleimon,
The Mummies,
Prince Buster,
Newcleus,
K-Klass,
Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
The Vogues,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Zapp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
The Neon Judgement,
Darondo,
EPMD,
Bauhaus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Faraquet,
Connie Case,
Soft Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pylon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stereo Dub,
Wolf Eyes,
Dark Day,
Average White Band,
Crooked Eye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
World's Most,
Television Personalities,
Maleditus Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Anakelly,
Sister Nancy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terry Callier,
Silicon Teens,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Christie,
The Monochrome Set,
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.