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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron 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 Durutti Column to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Inner City,
the Normal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dirtbombs,
Kevin Saunderson,
JFA,
Nick Fraelich,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bad Manners,
Minutemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Groovy Waters,
MDC,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cymande,
Zapp,
Brothers Johnson,
Ice-T,
John Holt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lungfish,
Joyce Sims,
The Pop Group,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q65,
Ten City,
Warren Ellis,
Michelle Simonal,
Mark Hollis,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Royal Trux,
Franke,
Los Fastidios,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Evens,
L. Decosne,
Parry Music,
Nils Olav,
Tom Boy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
Essential Logic,
the Sonics,
Eli Mardock,
the Association,
Von Mondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Reed,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Clarke,
Juan Atkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.