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 Brunei and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 JFA to the grunge 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Man Parrish,
UT,
Todd Terry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Sherman,
Byron Stingily,
Country Teasers,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Surgeon,
Funkadelic,
Half Japanese,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter and Kerry,
Popol Vuh,
Jacques Brel,
Grey Daturas,
Unrelated Segments,
Eddi Front,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Certain Ratio,
Ohio Players,
Kayak,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Foxx,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brand Nubian,
The Move,
Babytalk,
Zero Boys,
Brass Construction,
the Sonics,
Pere Ubu,
Cal Tjader,
The Modern Lovers,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Human League,
Fad Gadget,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Faraquet,
Black Bananas,
Maurizio,
Wings,
T. Rex,
Nas,
The Slackers,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.