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 Albania and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 Lindisfarne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Fugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Martian,
Cymande,
The Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Blancmange,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scion,
Ice-T,
Ultravox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mojo Men,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
The Smoke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nick Fraelich,
Talk Talk,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
The American Breed,
Supertramp,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Intrusion,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Enemy,
One Last Wish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Interpol,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
James Chance & The Contortions,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Aural Exciters,
the Germs,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Section 25,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brothers Johnson,
Quantec,
The Count Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skriet,
Visage,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.