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 Turkey and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Porter Ricks to the dance 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Agitation Free,
L. Decosne,
Minnie Riperton,
Pylon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Enemy,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Cale,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moleskins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Silicon Teens,
the Slits,
Jeff Lynne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Machine,
Kayak,
Eric Dolphy,
The Young Rascals,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Angels of Light,
Davy DMX,
Minor Threat,
Johnny Clarke,
Scott Walker,
Janne Schatter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magazine,
Simply Red,
Frankie Knuckles,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scion,
AZ,
Crooked Eye,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sex Pistols,
Radiohead,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nils Olav,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jandek,
The Vogues,
Nico,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Funky Four + One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dual Sessions,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Guru Guru,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.