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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Dirtbombs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aural Exciters,
Black Moon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Selecter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
PIL,
Barry Ungar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Bush Tetras,
Wally Richardson,
Sixth Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gories,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Godley & Creme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Matthew Bourne,
In Retrospect,
Fad Gadget,
The Angels of Light,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alison Limerick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Grauzone,
Cal Tjader,
Model 500,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
CMW,
Monks,
Rosa Yemen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Audionom,
Joey Negro,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hoover,
Deakin,
Con Funk Shun,
Roxette,
Toni Rubio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
Janne Schatter,
Adolescents,
Loose Ends,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
Scratch Acid,
the Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.