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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Divine Comedy,
Easy Going,
The Moody Blues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
K-Klass,
Kurtis Blow,
The Kinks,
Faust,
Stereo Dub,
Von Mondo,
The Trojans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Invisible,
Albert Ayler,
Parry Music,
Agitation Free,
Mantronix,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joe Finger,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DJ Sneak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barrington Levy,
The Modern Lovers,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
Deakin,
Andrew Hill,
Lightning Bolt,
Henry Cow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
The Skatalites,
The Pop Group,
Stiv Bators,
Toni Rubio,
Liliput,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Names,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus,
L. Decosne,
Arab on Radar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Metal Thangz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Franke,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
Tomorrow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Leaves,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.