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 Latvia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amazonics,
Niagra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skaos,
The Knickerbockers,
Harmonia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Dolphy,
The Blues Magoos,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stetsasonic,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
The Saints,
Infiniti,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Cale,
John Lydon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bad Manners,
Lalann,
Das Ding,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Royal Trux,
Prince Buster,
T. Rex,
F. McDonald,
Section 25,
Cybotron,
R.M.O.,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doors,
Chrome,
The Pop Group,
Mad Mike,
Rakim,
Ohio Players,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
Adolescents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
EPMD,
Hardrive,
The Mummies,
H. Thieme,
The Skatalites,
Urselle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moss Icon,
LL Cool J,
Jacob Miller,
The Wake,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.