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 Pakistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Make Up to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stockholm Monsters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eddi Front,
Section 25,
Arab on Radar,
Sixth Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
Freddie Wadling,
Rites of Spring,
Heaven 17,
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chrome,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
kango's stein massive,
Roxette,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Barry Ungar,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub,
The Martian,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fugazi,
Marc Almond,
Das Ding,
MDC,
The Wake,
Darondo,
DNA,
Mr. Review,
D'Angelo,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
Marvin Gaye,
Infiniti,
KRS-One,
Davy DMX,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quadrant,
Ice-T,
Reagan Youth,
Simply Red,
Blossom Toes,
Surgeon,
Bauhaus,
Janne Schatter,
Clear Light,
Severed Heads,
Arthur Verocai,
The Last Poets,
EPMD,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.