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 Indonesia and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Drexciya to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalann,
Yazoo,
Radio Birdman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Zeros,
The Red Krayola,
The Raincoats,
a-ha,
Gichy Dan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rites of Spring,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bronski Beat,
The Seeds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
Pantytec,
Harry Pussy,
Gang Starr,
MC5,
The Vogues,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sex Pistols,
AZ,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Sherman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ronnie Foster,
The Selecter,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
Shuggie Otis,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Patti Smith,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blossom Toes,
Grey Daturas,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Suicide,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dead Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
This Heat,
Jawbox,
Liliput,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Piero Umiliani,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.