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 Montenegro and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Shuggie Otis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Urselle,
The Techniques,
Boz Scaggs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
The Raincoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gun Club,
The Tremeloes,
The Dirtbombs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wings,
Curtis Mayfield,
Erykah Badu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Amon Düül,
Maleditus Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Terry Callier,
Moss Icon,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mad Mike,
The J.B.'s,
Glenn Branca,
David Bowie,
Echospace,
the Slits,
The Victims,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smiths,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Index,
OOIOO,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ronan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Khruangbin,
Matthew Bourne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wasted Youth,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Near,
Jeff Mills,
Das Ding,
Grauzone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Talk Talk,
Agent Orange,
Fear,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.