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 Tanzania and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 Liliput to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
The Techniques,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
Sarah Menescal,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
Public Enemy,
Eurythmics,
Stetsasonic,
Sandy B,
The Sound,
Newcleus,
Magma,
Con Funk Shun,
Fela Kuti,
cv313,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cure,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultimate Spinach,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
Little Man,
Pussy Galore,
The Dirtbombs,
PIL,
Davy DMX,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Bourne,
Nick Fraelich,
Gastr Del Sol,
David McCallum,
Model 500,
E-Dancer,
Lungfish,
John Lydon,
The Doors,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Average White Band,
Aural Exciters,
the Association,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
Agent Orange,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
Mars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Desert Stars,
The Fire Engines,
World's Most,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
F. McDonald,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.