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 Armenia and from Winnipeg.
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 Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ken Boothe to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Bill Near,
Malaria!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Magazine,
Marmalade,
The Martian,
The Searchers,
Echospace,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
The Raincoats,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mr. Review,
Lindisfarne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Count Five,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme,
Quadrant,
Alice Coltrane,
The Motions,
The Music Machine,
Delta 5,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Barracudas,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oneida,
Guru Guru,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Urselle,
Lungfish,
Wally Richardson,
Excepter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rufus Thomas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cramps,
Smog,
Morten Harket,
Mars,
The Stooges,
June of 44,
La Düsseldorf,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris & Cosey,
Glambeats Corp.,
Quando Quango,
Derrick May,
Jacob Miller,
Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rotary Connection,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.