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 Comoros and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Sex Pistols,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
Deadbeat,
Lightning Bolt,
Alphaville,
The Dead C,
Charles Mingus,
Neu!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Excepter,
The Angels of Light,
Max Romeo,
Eric Copeland,
Symarip,
Ronan,
Minutemen,
Erykah Badu,
Tim Buckley,
Black Pus,
Gang Starr,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Japan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kaleidoscope,
Wire,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moleskins,
Ice-T,
Public Enemy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wolf Eyes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donny Hathaway,
Eurythmics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television Personalities,
The Residents,
Drexciya,
Lyres,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The J.B.'s,
Pussy Galore,
Soulsonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Buzzcocks,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.