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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 X-Ray Spex 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Supertramp,
Amazonics,
Prince Buster,
Freddie Wadling,
The Count Five,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scratch Acid,
Kerri Chandler,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
The Divine Comedy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Names,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
B.T. Express,
Von Mondo,
Marvin Gaye,
Swans,
Zero Boys,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Slick Rick,
The Remains,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The J.B.'s,
LL Cool J,
Amon Düül,
The Selecter,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Durutti Column,
Darondo,
The Index,
Wire,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül II,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
David Bowie,
Bobby Womack,
Dual Sessions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Almond,
The Gories,
Connie Case,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.