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 Paraguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anthony Braxton to the disco 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Kayak,
Janne Schatter,
Pussy Galore,
Audionom,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Joey Negro,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Swans,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
Flipper,
Cybotron,
Gastr Del Sol,
Livin' Joy,
Eddi Front,
Silicon Teens,
Joyce Sims,
OOIOO,
Crooked Eye,
Babytalk,
Tubeway Army,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yazoo,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near,
Alison Limerick,
Morten Harket,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Standells,
Donald Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MC5,
Brothers Johnson,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
Yellowson,
R.M.O.,
Country Teasers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scan 7,
CMW,
Ossler,
Malaria!,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
The Sonics,
Lower 48,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.