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 United Kingdom and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the dance 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Massinfluence,
The Evens,
Amon Düül II,
Eric Dolphy,
James White and The Blacks,
Minny Pops,
Duran Duran,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Banda Bassotti,
Gabor Szabo,
Saccharine Trust,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
Echospace,
Sonic Youth,
The Fuzztones,
Absolute Body Control,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Jawbox,
The Angels of Light,
The New Christs,
Lindisfarne,
Hardrive,
Aaron Thompson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hasil Adkins,
R.M.O.,
Malaria!,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Public Enemy,
Howard Jones,
Franke,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
Brothers Johnson,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fugs,
Camberwell Now,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
Minutemen,
Patti Smith,
The Black Dice,
Althea and Donna,
Loose Ends,
Derrick May,
DNA,
Roxy Music,
Fat Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Magma,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kurtis Blow,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.