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 Sweden and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Traffic Nightmare to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
David Bowie,
The Happenings,
Radio Birdman,
The Monochrome Set,
Nico,
The Young Rascals,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Interpol,
Lungfish,
Ohio Players,
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonic Youth,
Dark Day,
The Last Poets,
Fugazi,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Duran Duran,
The Red Krayola,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Zero Boys,
Faraquet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aaron Thompson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Misunderstood,
EPMD,
Sound Behaviour,
Crime,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dave Gahan,
The Raincoats,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Malaria!,
New Order,
Tim Buckley,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
The Names,
Brand Nubian,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moody Blues,
Radiohead,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.