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 the UAE and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 48th St. Collective to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Duran Duran,
Essential Logic,
Skarface,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Black Pus,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Golliwogs,
The Gap Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kas Product,
Brick,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
A Certain Ratio,
John Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
X-102,
Tropical Tobacco,
David Bowie,
The Divine Comedy,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
The Grass Roots,
Thompson Twins,
Isaac Hayes,
Jacob Miller,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agent Orange,
The Modern Lovers,
Loose Ends,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Angels of Light,
R.M.O.,
Don Cherry,
Television,
Bobby Womack,
Barclay James Harvest,
Interpol,
Bad Manners,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sonics,
Echospace,
The Velvet Underground,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.