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 Bahrain and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Donald Fagen 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
The Tremeloes,
Carl Craig,
10cc,
Tres Demented,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aural Exciters,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Ronnie Foster,
Howard Jones,
Hardrive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marine Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alison Limerick,
Camberwell Now,
Dual Sessions,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Hood,
Sight & Sound,
In Retrospect,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pierre Henry,
Liliput,
D'Angelo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gap Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
The Techniques,
Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Newcleus,
Joe Smooth,
Andrew Hill,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Second Layer,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arcadia,
Black Sheep,
Graham Central Station,
X-101,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Roxette,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.