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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pet Shop Boys to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
The Fortunes,
Anakelly,
Minutemen,
The Grass Roots,
Rotary Connection,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Byron Stingily,
Sight & Sound,
Das Ding,
Moby Grape,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Machine,
The Raincoats,
Infiniti,
Chrome,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Lydon,
Severed Heads,
Wire,
Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Technova,
Maleditus Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gap Band,
Yaz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
The Names,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kenny Larkin,
Fat Boys,
The Fall,
Depeche Mode,
Jacques Brel,
Average White Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Amon Düül II,
The Invisible,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
The Evens,
Black Pus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sällskapet,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Holt,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.