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 Lebanon and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang of Four to the jazz 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Toasters,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlback,
Make Up,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funky Four + One,
Alice Coltrane,
Jawbox,
Deadbeat,
Aaron Thompson,
Piero Umiliani,
Sex Pistols,
Camouflage,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
Kas Product,
The Fuzztones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Bourne,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
The Music Machine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kayak,
Blancmange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Sherman,
Siglo XX,
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
Thee Headcoats,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
Man Parrish,
Leonard Cohen,
The Durutti Column,
Sister Nancy,
the Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Popol Vuh,
Urselle,
The Seeds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The United States of America,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.