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 Romania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Pole 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Au Pairs,
The Smoke,
Television Personalities,
Camouflage,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Almond,
Kayak,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wire,
Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
Faraquet,
Saccharine Trust,
Michelle Simonal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
JFA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terry Callier,
Japan,
Jawbox,
Rakim,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Walker Brothers,
Wings,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Funky Four + One,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
Livin' Joy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Anakelly,
Aaron Thompson,
Max Romeo,
Fear,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rites of Spring,
Agent Orange,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gun Club,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.