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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
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 synthesizer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the dance 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Loose Ends,
Tomorrow,
The Fall,
Pantaleimon,
The Monochrome Set,
Eyeless In Gaza,
World's Most,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
Von Mondo,
David McCallum,
Popol Vuh,
Anakelly,
Howard Jones,
Leonard Cohen,
H. Thieme,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ossler,
Quantec,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Sister Nancy,
Moss Icon,
Crime,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Copeland,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
The Modern Lovers,
Visage,
The Monks,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
10cc,
The Toasters,
Yusef Lateef,
Juan Atkins,
One Last Wish,
The Pretty Things,
Clear Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lightning Bolt,
Jawbox,
The Gun Club,
Erasure,
The Martian,
Altered Images,
The Sonics,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roxy Music,
X-Ray Spex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Terry,
Accadde A,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.