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 South Sudan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
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 theremin 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Sugar Minott,
Reuben Wilson,
Stetsasonic,
The Busters,
Rekid,
The Fugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Hill,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faust,
Alison Limerick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra,
The Motions,
Hasil Adkins,
Erasure,
Zapp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Near,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Guru Guru,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harry Pussy,
Underground Resistance,
The Saints,
The Residents,
Cheater Slicks,
Flipper,
the Slits,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
AZ,
KRS-One,
Roxette,
Metal Thangz,
Drive Like Jehu,
Freddie Wadling,
Pet Shop Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Quadrant,
The Zeros,
Heaven 17,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
Nation of Ulysses,
Au Pairs,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Audionom,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlback,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
The Raincoats,
Schoolly D,
Essential Logic,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.