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 Korea North and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stereo Dub to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Johnny Clarke,
Reagan Youth,
Erasure,
Anakelly,
Lucky Dragons,
In Retrospect,
Smog,
The Walker Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Depeche Mode,
Sparks,
CMW,
Quadrant,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skarface,
Bobby Sherman,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
The Angels of Light,
the Association,
Alison Limerick,
Fugazi,
Todd Terry,
Max Romeo,
Simply Red,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cybotron,
Organ,
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Nico,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Radiopuhelimet,
Q65,
Delta 5,
Silicon Teens,
Kenny Larkin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ludus,
Half Japanese,
Black Sheep,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Kaleidoscope,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.