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 Uzbekistan and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Graham Central Station to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Raincoats,
L. Decosne,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Green,
The Neon Judgement,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fluxion,
Dead Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sound,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ten City,
Fear,
Blancmange,
Prince Buster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Angry Samoans,
the Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Ludus,
Sister Nancy,
In Retrospect,
Ohio Players,
The Mojo Men,
Japan,
Duran Duran,
Absolute Body Control,
Tears for Fears,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
The J.B.'s,
Essential Logic,
Suicide,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Connie Case,
The Walker Brothers,
Faraquet,
The Durutti Column,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Bananas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
The Gap Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Model 500,
Lou Reed,
Crash Course in Science,
These Immortal Souls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.