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 Israel and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Aural Exciters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Soft Cell,
Steve Hackett,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rakim,
Eddi Front,
Radiohead,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-101,
Bad Manners,
Young Marble Giants,
Cheater Slicks,
The Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Bauhaus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Whodini,
Jeff Mills,
L. Decosne,
The Cowsills,
The Cure,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
The Associates,
Graham Central Station,
The Velvet Underground,
Tommy Roe,
Neu!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fatback Band,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The J.B.'s,
The Last Poets,
Suburban Knight,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Colin Newman,
Dark Day,
Bill Near,
Lalann,
Gichy Dan,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Robert Görl,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.