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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Marine Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
E-Dancer,
Minny Pops,
Boredoms,
Arthur Verocai,
Boz Scaggs,
Grauzone,
The Pretty Things,
Warren Ellis,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
H. Thieme,
Average White Band,
Country Teasers,
Scan 7,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
Iggy Pop,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Second Layer,
Metal Thangz,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thompson Twins,
The Pop Group,
Camberwell Now,
Porter Ricks,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Loose Ends,
The Standells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rotary Connection,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Electric Prunes,
Darondo,
Icehouse,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blake Baxter,
The Angels of Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Litter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Roger Hodgson,
Graham Central Station,
Skriet,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.