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 Senegal and from London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Kerri Chandler to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
L. Decosne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Misunderstood,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faraquet,
D'Angelo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boredoms,
Black Flag,
Swans,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
Model 500,
Girls At Our Best!,
David Bowie,
Goldenarms,
Danielle Patucci,
Lightning Bolt,
The Toasters,
Rekid,
Fugazi,
Colin Newman,
Quantec,
The Velvet Underground,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Junior Murvin,
Minny Pops,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cheater Slicks,
Magma,
Archie Shepp,
The Cowsills,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Knickerbockers,
Country Teasers,
Echospace,
Buzzcocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
World's Most,
The Golliwogs,
In Retrospect,
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Rapeman,
Main Source,
Absolute Body Control,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Buckinghams,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pussy Galore,
Moss Icon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.