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 Suriname and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
David McCallum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
Con Funk Shun,
Mission of Burma,
Nico,
Yazoo,
Aswad,
The Blues Magoos,
Jacques Brel,
Hasil Adkins,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Marine Girls,
Josef K,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
MC5,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Almond,
Schoolly D,
The Sonics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arcadia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Bowie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Judy Mowatt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sexual Harrassment,
a-ha,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Germs,
The Gap Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Section 25,
Boredoms,
ABC,
Soul II Soul,
Lucky Dragons,
Dark Day,
Bang On A Can,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Janne Schatter,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
Boogie Down Productions,
H. Thieme,
Anthony Braxton,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.