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 Belarus and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Lou Reed 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 Walker Brothers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
This Heat,
Tommy Roe,
Section 25,
The Wake,
Ralphi Rosario,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
Schoolly D,
Max Romeo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chrome,
L. Decosne,
The Names,
Maurizio,
The Standells,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
Banda Bassotti,
AZ,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
The New Christs,
Jerry's Kids,
48th St. Collective,
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
Depeche Mode,
Anakelly,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
The Stooges,
Underground Resistance,
The Gap Band,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxette,
MC5,
The Smoke,
The Martian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Jawbox,
the Slits,
Outsiders,
Donald Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Judy Mowatt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
D'Angelo,
The Associates,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Near,
Mission of Burma,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience.
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.