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 Namibia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
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 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 Suicide to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
EPMD,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
The Barracudas,
Buzzcocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sonics,
Siglo XX,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick May,
Funky Four + One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Khruangbin,
The Zeros,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
MC5,
Cecil Taylor,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rapeman,
Wire,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
Faraquet,
Glenn Branca,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Clear Light,
Ice-T,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Grey Daturas,
Mad Mike,
Infiniti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Knickerbockers,
Icehouse,
Mission of Burma,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Motorama,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kenny Larkin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tres Demented,
Patti Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minnie Riperton,
Monolake,
Dennis Brown,
The Invisible,
Harmonia,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.