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 Taiwan and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Offenders to the crunk 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Yusef Lateef,
Ossler,
David Axelrod,
Kevin Saunderson,
Silicon Teens,
Faraquet,
B.T. Express,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slackers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Vogues,
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
The Sonics,
Morten Harket,
Soft Machine,
Organ,
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Reed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Qualms,
The Angels of Light,
The Gap Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Goldenarms,
Au Pairs,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swell Maps,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vladislav Delay,
K-Klass,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Hood,
Flipper,
Sight & Sound,
The Martian,
Royal Trux,
The Real Kids,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Niagra,
Rotary Connection,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Audionom,
Blancmange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Schoolly D,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ludus,
Yaz,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
Can,
Chris Corsano,
Davy DMX,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.