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 Haiti and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Peter & Gordon to the electroclash 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
The Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crash Course in Science,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
Unwound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magma,
Masters at Work,
The Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alison Limerick,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Görl,
The Names,
Absolute Body Control,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronan,
John Foxx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultimate Spinach,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
David Bowie,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
UT,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Lightning Bolt,
Michelle Simonal,
Sister Nancy,
The Gladiators,
Roy Ayers,
Fat Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eddi Front,
Magazine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Cal Tjader,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bauhaus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skriet,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gap Band,
Roxette,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.