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 Cambodia and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Reagan Youth to the grime 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Minny Pops,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
Franke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Archie Shepp,
Ronan,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed,
Monolake,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Duran Duran,
Sound Behaviour,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Magma,
Chris Corsano,
Das Ding,
Whodini,
Black Flag,
Alton Ellis,
Fad Gadget,
MC5,
Mission of Burma,
Toni Rubio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Althea and Donna,
Terry Callier,
Drexciya,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Techniques,
Outsiders,
Albert Ayler,
Technova,
Chris & Cosey,
Morten Harket,
Michelle Simonal,
Camouflage,
Mantronix,
A Certain Ratio,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
In Retrospect,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Sonics,
Malaria!,
Moby Grape,
The Vogues,
kango's stein massive,
Black Sheep,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers,
Stiv Bators,
The Martian,
Bluetip,
Fugazi,
Sparks,
Bronski Beat,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.