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 Burkina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The United States of America to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Pretty Things,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The J.B.'s,
DNA,
Blossom Toes,
Marvin Gaye,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David McCallum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
Audionom,
Rotary Connection,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Bar-Kays,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
Echospace,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scratch Acid,
The Litter,
Radiohead,
MDC,
Faraquet,
Sun City Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agent Orange,
The Searchers,
Lakeside,
Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Drexciya,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
Mandrill,
The Slackers,
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Wyatt,
Eurythmics,
The Leaves,
Susan Cadogan,
Warren Ellis,
Morten Harket,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aaron Thompson,
The Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
The Divine Comedy,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sound,
The Moleskins,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.