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 Djibouti and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eddi Front to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Tomorrow,
Au Pairs,
Japan,
The Standells,
The Move,
Jeff Mills,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Neon Judgement,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
The Selecter,
John Holt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Zero Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fela Kuti,
Buzzcocks,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Eve St. Jones,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
Symarip,
Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Loose Ends,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
DNA,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
T. Rex,
the Association,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Byrd,
This Heat,
The Gladiators,
Slave,
Television,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
Rufus Thomas,
Soul II Soul,
The Divine Comedy,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.