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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 The Move to the crunk 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Darondo,
E-Dancer,
Charles Mingus,
The Stooges,
The Evens,
John Holt,
Lou Reed,
Marc Almond,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Morten Harket,
Erykah Badu,
The Barracudas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Tears for Fears,
Crispian St. Peters,
PIL,
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Josef K,
Blancmange,
MC5,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
U.S. Maple,
Ken Boothe,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
Junior Murvin,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dave Gahan,
Absolute Body Control,
10cc,
Frankie Knuckles,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DJ Style,
Freddie Wadling,
The Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sex Pistols,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
Joy Division,
The Blues Magoos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delta 5,
Toni Rubio,
Trumans Water,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agent Orange,
Mantronix,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yazoo,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.