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 Nicaragua and from Milan.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Interpol to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Royal Trux,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
The Dead C,
the Soft Cell,
The Misunderstood,
Fluxion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fugazi,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shuggie Otis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pere Ubu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
FM Einheit,
Funkadelic,
OOIOO,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Black Dice,
The Real Kids,
Lucky Dragons,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Toni Rubio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roger Hodgson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Altered Images,
Colin Newman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brothers Johnson,
Theoretical Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Modern Lovers,
Reagan Youth,
Von Mondo,
The Velvet Underground,
Intrusion,
L. Decosne,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Residents,
Eve St. Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Buzzcocks,
Drexciya,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.