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 Afghanistan 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 Columbus and Tokyo.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Franke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Qualms,
Organ,
Pagans,
Massinfluence,
Unrelated Segments,
The Barracudas,
Monks,
The Pretty Things,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Model 500,
Ice-T,
China Crisis,
JFA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aloha Tigers,
MDC,
Easy Going,
T.S.O.L.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Simply Red,
Wolf Eyes,
Bootsy Collins,
Iggy Pop,
Minny Pops,
the Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Second Layer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
Shoche,
kango's stein massive,
Gang Green,
MC5,
Silicon Teens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Count Five,
The Names,
Tom Boy,
Lightning Bolt,
Tim Buckley,
The Saints,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Slackers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The New Christs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deakin,
Fear,
The Detroit Cobras,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang of Four,
Pylon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.