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 Jamaica and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Talk Talk to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Sarah Menescal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radiohead,
Morten Harket,
Television,
The Cowsills,
June of 44,
The Trojans,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
Joey Negro,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Altered Images,
Rotary Connection,
Slave,
the Fania All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Henry Cow,
Stiv Bators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sonic Youth,
Tom Boy,
Fear,
Agitation Free,
Lyres,
Bush Tetras,
The Walker Brothers,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Clarke,
AZ,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun Ra,
Susan Cadogan,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Liliput,
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
L. Decosne,
Siglo XX,
Wire,
Gong,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
Oneida,
Pantaleimon,
Erasure,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.