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 Namibia and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 These Immortal Souls to the electroclash 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan,
Dual Sessions,
The Leaves,
Sandy B,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
ABC,
The Angels of Light,
The Beau Brummels,
A Certain Ratio,
Average White Band,
The American Breed,
Brand Nubian,
Con Funk Shun,
Aaron Thompson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scan 7,
Howard Jones,
The Names,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
China Crisis,
Todd Terry,
The Golliwogs,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Mo-Dettes,
Maurizio,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
PIL,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gichy Dan,
The Zeros,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
The United States of America,
Graham Central Station,
Country Teasers,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens,
Roxy Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Yellowson,
Arcadia,
JFA,
Sound Behaviour,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Juan Atkins,
Smog,
Stetsasonic,
Procol Harum,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.