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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Scion to the grunge 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aswad,
Desert Stars,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Duran Duran,
Smog,
Kenny Larkin,
Unwound,
Anakelly,
Sarah Menescal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
La Düsseldorf,
Rapeman,
Warsaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Massinfluence,
Groovy Waters,
Magma,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris Corsano,
Black Flag,
Albert Ayler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barbara Tucker,
Yazoo,
The Selecter,
Joy Division,
Eddi Front,
Camouflage,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ice-T,
Kurtis Blow,
Moss Icon,
Shuggie Otis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Arthur Verocai,
The Golliwogs,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Pus,
Ten City,
Section 25,
The Leaves,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Kinks,
The Toasters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scan 7,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.