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 Georgia and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Zapp,
Siglo XX,
Maurizio,
Matthew Bourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Darondo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Schoolly D,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Osbourne,
Delta 5,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
Mr. Review,
Echospace,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tom Boy,
The Tremeloes,
Black Bananas,
The Happenings,
The Pop Group,
The Cramps,
Babytalk,
Soft Cell,
Oneida,
Rotary Connection,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Ituana,
Yaz,
Kevin Saunderson,
Al Stewart,
Skarface,
Black Flag,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magazine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-101,
the Fania All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Moss Icon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
MDC,
Black Sheep,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Underground Resistance,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
Colin Newman,
Henry Cow,
Crime,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.