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 Belize and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rotary Connection to the techno 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Livin' Joy,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
Smog,
Todd Rundgren,
Shoche,
ABC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funkadelic,
Brand Nubian,
Bluetip,
Icehouse,
The Stooges,
Masters at Work,
Rapeman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Womack,
The Selecter,
Man Parrish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Audionom,
Severed Heads,
Howard Jones,
The Index,
Supertramp,
The Pop Group,
Sex Pistols,
Erasure,
The Pretty Things,
Fatback Band,
Moebius,
Loose Ends,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
Interpol,
Juan Atkins,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Ohio Players,
The Gun Club,
Inner City,
Amon Düül,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
Buzzcocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Public Enemy,
A Certain Ratio,
Mark Hollis,
the Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
Country Teasers,
The Techniques,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.