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 Cyprus and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 John Lydon to the rap 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Pus,
Organ,
Tubeway Army,
Adolescents,
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chris Corsano,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Davy DMX,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Christie,
Liliput,
Nico,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Intrusion,
Scrapy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Erykah Badu,
The Grass Roots,
Leonard Cohen,
The Divine Comedy,
Panda Bear,
Sight & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Mo-Dettes,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
Section 25,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cluster,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Green,
Tom Boy,
Absolute Body Control,
Suicide,
Mission of Burma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arcadia,
New Order,
Bootsy Collins,
The Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lucky Dragons,
Barbara Tucker,
Lakeside,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fat Boys,
David Bowie,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.