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 Saudi Arabia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Amazonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Surgeon,
Deadbeat,
Dennis Brown,
Cymande,
Depeche Mode,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantytec,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Vladislav Delay,
Jawbox,
Dawn Penn,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
Boredoms,
Yaz,
Shuggie Otis,
Maurizio,
Blossom Toes,
Tubeway Army,
The Raincoats,
The Blues Magoos,
The Offenders,
Monolake,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television,
Oneida,
Ludus,
Tom Boy,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Country Teasers,
Chrome,
Mark Hollis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Index,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Sällskapet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mantronix,
U.S. Maple,
Circle Jerks,
Stetsasonic,
Jandek,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
Guru Guru,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.