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 Fiji and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
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 guitar 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 Mars to the dance 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett 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?
The Pretty Things,
The Angels of Light,
Scientists,
Aural Exciters,
The Fugs,
Eric Copeland,
Arcadia,
UT,
Bobby Womack,
Juan Atkins,
The Martian,
Excepter,
Robert Wyatt,
X-101,
Kurtis Blow,
The Happenings,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cowsills,
Michelle Simonal,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
Flash Fearless,
Terry Callier,
Camouflage,
The Dave Clark Five,
Inner City,
Audionom,
ABBA,
Pussy Galore,
Pantytec,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Fraelich,
Main Source,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeff Mills,
Max Romeo,
Bauhaus,
Jacques Brel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Reagan Youth,
ABC,
Marmalade,
Janne Schatter,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sonics,
Connie Case,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Althea and Donna,
Neu!,
Franke,
Scan 7,
Jeff Lynne,
The Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.