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 Switzerland and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Iggy Pop to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Arab on Radar,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Clarke,
Eli Mardock,
Davy DMX,
Magazine,
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
Skaos,
The Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Kas Product,
Sex Pistols,
The Count Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Deadbeat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DNA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Little Man,
Hardrive,
Cecil Taylor,
China Crisis,
Amon Düül,
Swell Maps,
Ituana,
Eve St. Jones,
The Star Department,
The Gun Club,
Sonny Sharrock,
Groovy Waters,
Leonard Cohen,
KRS-One,
Bang On A Can,
Sugar Minott,
Rekid,
Youth Brigade,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yaz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Robert Görl,
Derrick May,
Harmonia,
The Martian,
The Moleskins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
In Retrospect,
David McCallum,
Howard Jones,
Audionom,
Oblivians,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.