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 South Africa and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 the Germs to the funk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
the Germs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alton Ellis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
The Names,
Joe Finger,
Susan Cadogan,
The Selecter,
Janne Schatter,
The Fortunes,
Al Stewart,
Tears for Fears,
Lightning Bolt,
Cameo,
Visage,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlback,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
Average White Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
Donny Hathaway,
Prince Buster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Toni Rubio,
Warsaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
Procol Harum,
Siglo XX,
Warren Ellis,
DJ Style,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Smooth,
R.M.O.,
Bill Wells,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Flag,
Thompson Twins,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Görl,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Byron Stingily,
Ornette Coleman,
Juan Atkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.