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 Uzbekistan and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Basic Channel to the grime 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cowsills,
FM Einheit,
Nils Olav,
LL Cool J,
a-ha,
Alison Limerick,
Rod Modell,
The Mummies,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pulsallama,
Heaven 17,
Yusef Lateef,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roger Hodgson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wire,
Black Sheep,
Roxy Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Adolescents,
Fugazi,
Freddie Wadling,
The Raincoats,
Lindisfarne,
Iggy Pop,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mark Hollis,
Malaria!,
The Fall,
China Crisis,
Todd Terry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camberwell Now,
Kevin Saunderson,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
Saccharine Trust,
Slave,
In Retrospect,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cecil Taylor,
Monks,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
Althea and Donna,
Wally Richardson,
K-Klass,
Bobby Byrd,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Victims,
The United States of America,
The American Breed,
The Fuzztones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soft Machine,
Cluster,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.