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 Lebanon and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kenny Larkin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monochrome Set,
The Count Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Black Dice,
Kurtis Blow,
Essential Logic,
Eric Dolphy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Golliwogs,
Ludus,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rites of Spring,
Rosa Yemen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dave Gahan,
EPMD,
The Five Americans,
Urselle,
Warren Ellis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scientists,
JFA,
X-101,
The Modern Lovers,
The Skatalites,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronnie Foster,
MDC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Whodini,
The Move,
Robert Wyatt,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
Cheater Slicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Talk Talk,
Rekid,
AZ,
Barrington Levy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Derrick May,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ossler,
FM Einheit,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
Pierre Henry,
Juan Atkins,
Surgeon,
The Young Rascals,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.