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 Tajikistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Newcleus to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cheater Slicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Glambeats Corp.,
Visage,
Pantaleimon,
Excepter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang of Four,
Dual Sessions,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
The Shadows of Knight,
Susan Cadogan,
Neu!,
Can,
Masters at Work,
John Lydon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wolf Eyes,
Yusef Lateef,
The Selecter,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doobie Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Banda Bassotti,
Royal Trux,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nico,
Desert Stars,
Altered Images,
The Red Krayola,
ABBA,
The Velvet Underground,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
Depeche Mode,
The Slackers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Symarip,
The Walker Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mantronix,
Crash Course in Science,
Buzzcocks,
Index,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.