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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Holger Czukay 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the techno 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
A Certain Ratio,
Deadbeat,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Kinks,
Pantytec,
Connie Case,
Country Teasers,
Joy Division,
Alphaville,
Mantronix,
Qualms,
Kool Moe Dee,
FM Einheit,
Lucky Dragons,
Bauhaus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Loose Ends,
DJ Style,
Lightning Bolt,
Quantec,
The Saints,
Lou Reed,
Young Marble Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
UT,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tres Demented,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The American Breed,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
Gong,
Can,
Von Mondo,
Organ,
the Slits,
Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fuzztones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Junior Murvin,
Bob Dylan,
10cc,
Harry Pussy,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.