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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Inner City to the rock 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
Byron Stingily,
Ituana,
Erasure,
The Trojans,
Q and Not U,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Unwound,
Soulsonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Offenders,
Agent Orange,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Sherman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter and Kerry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June of 44,
Saccharine Trust,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
The American Breed,
Marvin Gaye,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Byrd,
The Young Rascals,
Todd Rundgren,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Lightning Bolt,
The Blues Magoos,
Dark Day,
Fear,
Zero Boys,
Icehouse,
Colin Newman,
Panda Bear,
KRS-One,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Whodini,
Gabor Szabo,
The Electric Prunes,
Negative Approach,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Mills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Absolute Body Control,
The Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeff Lynne,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.