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 Guinea-Bissau and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Misunderstood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Von Mondo,
Cal Tjader,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lucky Dragons,
Rapeman,
OOIOO,
Max Romeo,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cramps,
Vladislav Delay,
Scan 7,
Absolute Body Control,
The Residents,
the Sonics,
DJ Sneak,
Silicon Teens,
PIL,
Jeff Mills,
Niagra,
Deakin,
Monolake,
Camouflage,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!,
Slave,
Magazine,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Angels of Light,
Maleditus Sound,
Agent Orange,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Style,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bill Wells,
Juan Atkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Kurtis Blow,
Skarface,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
CMW,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cure,
Laurel Aitken,
The Evens,
Outsiders,
David McCallum,
Terry Callier,
Siglo XX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.