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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin 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 Amon Düül to the electroclash 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Agent Orange,
The Grass Roots,
The Cramps,
kango's stein massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Wells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radiohead,
The Buckinghams,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Crooked Eye,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Sonics,
Heaven 17,
The Red Krayola,
Gerry Rafferty,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Masters at Work,
Dead Boys,
Urselle,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Warren Ellis,
Rekid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aural Exciters,
Bush Tetras,
Sarah Menescal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronan,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Tremeloes,
Television,
Marc Almond,
Yaz,
Fat Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joe Smooth,
Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mojo Men,
Bauhaus,
Fear,
June Days,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.