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 South Africa and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Seeds to the techno 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Yusef Lateef,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül,
Minor Threat,
Minny Pops,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
Oneida,
Yellowson,
T.S.O.L.,
Ten City,
Pussy Galore,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
Q and Not U,
Theoretical Girls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
David McCallum,
DJ Style,
Robert Görl,
DNA,
The Sound,
The Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Roxy Music,
Black Moon,
Pantytec,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scott Walker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terry Callier,
the Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Monks,
Lalann,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pulsallama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spandau Ballet,
Yaz,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dirtbombs,
Unrelated Segments,
Ralphi Rosario,
Suicide,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smoke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doors,
Index,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.