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 Chile and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Massinfluence to the electroclash 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Moby Grape,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
Newcleus,
Blake Baxter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Animal Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Main Source,
Byron Stingily,
Moebius,
Laurel Aitken,
the Bar-Kays,
Echospace,
The Misunderstood,
kango's stein massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultra Naté,
Urselle,
The Searchers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fugazi,
DNA,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dark Day,
Funky Four + One,
Saccharine Trust,
Marmalade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Maleditus Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
Agent Orange,
Pagans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pulsallama,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ornette Coleman,
David McCallum,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fatback Band,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed,
Carl Craig,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
New Order,
Tres Demented,
Kerri Chandler,
Donald Byrd,
Tim Buckley,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
Drexciya,
Nik Kershaw,
DJ Style,
Mandrill,
The Pretty Things,
Moss Icon,
Dead Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.