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 Mozambique and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Surgeon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
The Monks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cure,
Sixth Finger,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alice Coltrane,
The Slackers,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Detroit Cobras,
Organ,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fad Gadget,
F. McDonald,
The Five Americans,
MC5,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mo-Dettes,
Jacques Brel,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric Dolphy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Lydon,
Lou Christie,
Junior Murvin,
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marshall Jefferson,
K-Klass,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
Radiohead,
Traffic Nightmare,
Underground Resistance,
Delta 5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Swell Maps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soft Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mark Hollis,
Duran Duran,
Gong,
X-101,
Gichy Dan,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ten City,
U.S. Maple,
Black Sheep,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.