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 Malawi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Remains to the electroclash 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
Von Mondo,
The Invisible,
Khruangbin,
Angry Samoans,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
Scott Walker,
Deakin,
Faraquet,
The Associates,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Leaves,
Fat Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Sparks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Remains,
MDC,
Rhythm & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hoover,
The Happenings,
Neu!,
John Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
Iggy Pop,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scratch Acid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Animal Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Leonard Cohen,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Model 500,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
KRS-One,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
Excepter,
Mo-Dettes,
Lightning Bolt,
Jandek,
Crooked Eye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.