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 Sri Lanka and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Altered Images to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moby Grape,
Skriet,
Youth Brigade,
Slick Rick,
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
Colin Newman,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Lynne,
Saccharine Trust,
Frankie Knuckles,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rapeman,
Organ,
Black Moon,
New Order,
Scrapy,
The Skatalites,
Bizarre Inc.,
Q65,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Can,
a-ha,
Judy Mowatt,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Style,
The Pretty Things,
Mo-Dettes,
Wolf Eyes,
Deepchord,
PIL,
Dave Gahan,
Wally Richardson,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Darondo,
Fugazi,
Nico,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eve St. Jones,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Byrd,
KRS-One,
Joensuu 1685,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Robert Görl,
Rites of Spring,
Aaron Thompson,
Scott Walker,
Magma,
Nirvana,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.