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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sight & Sound to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Warsaw,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABBA,
Wasted Youth,
Wally Richardson,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Black Moon,
The Martian,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Brand Nubian,
Japan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Schoolly D,
The Gories,
Subhumans,
In Retrospect,
Fear,
Matthew Bourne,
Ossler,
The Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joey Negro,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
Circle Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
the Normal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Laurel Aitken,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Saints,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
Joyce Sims,
Hardrive,
The Birthday Party,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
The Fall,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sound,
The Human League,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stiv Bators,
Supertramp,
Brick,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
Nas,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.