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 Gabon and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
In Retrospect,
Masters at Work,
Von Mondo,
Faust,
Swell Maps,
The Angels of Light,
Bronski Beat,
Graham Central Station,
Rotary Connection,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Circle Jerks,
Matthew Bourne,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Ituana,
The American Breed,
The Fuzztones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Evens,
Marvin Gaye,
The Electric Prunes,
The Stooges,
The Fortunes,
Suburban Knight,
Depeche Mode,
Quantec,
Freddie Wadling,
The Selecter,
Michelle Simonal,
Desert Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Neil Young,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Outsiders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABBA,
Fluxion,
Eurythmics,
Half Japanese,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
UT,
Barry Ungar,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
The Remains,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Animal Collective,
Black Moon,
The Young Rascals,
Isaac Hayes,
Piero Umiliani,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.