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 Croatia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 David Bowie 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 EPMD to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Connie Case,
Slick Rick,
Ossler,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
The Cure,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Bobby Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nick Fraelich,
June of 44,
Todd Terry,
Funkadelic,
Scrapy,
Eden Ahbez,
Robert Hood,
Minor Threat,
Youth Brigade,
Barbara Tucker,
Glenn Branca,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Von Mondo,
Goldenarms,
Barrington Levy,
MDC,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Donny Hathaway,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
Con Funk Shun,
The Tremeloes,
Jawbox,
The Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Henry Cow,
Los Fastidios,
Outsiders,
Maleditus Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Parry Music,
Accadde A,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barry Ungar,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.