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 Gambia and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Curtis Mayfield to the jazz 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Juan Atkins,
Bush Tetras,
The Moody Blues,
Vainqueur,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moss Icon,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Happenings,
Simply Red,
The Grass Roots,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
Marmalade,
The Star Department,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Ronnie Foster,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Janne Schatter,
The Martian,
Agent Orange,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Henry Cow,
Flash Fearless,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Infiniti,
Audionom,
Pagans,
Swans,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rakim,
Neu!,
Eden Ahbez,
Skarface,
Second Layer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skaos,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Skriet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Colin Newman,
Buzzcocks,
Morten Harket,
Interpol,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.