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 Nigeria and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dark Day,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
Kas Product,
48th St. Collective,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Surgeon,
the Association,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Clear Light,
Unrelated Segments,
Marine Girls,
B.T. Express,
Television Personalities,
Warsaw,
Rufus Thomas,
The Smoke,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Suicide,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
the Human League,
The Gories,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Whodini,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gun Club,
Rekid,
Guru Guru,
Little Man,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Axelrod,
Motorama,
Johnny Clarke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scan 7,
The Pretty Things,
Scott Walker,
the Normal,
The Victims,
Crime,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
The Young Rascals,
The Five Americans,
Freddie Wadling,
Goldenarms,
A Certain Ratio,
Soft Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hasil Adkins,
Young Marble Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.