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 Zimbabwe and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
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 spring reverb 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick May,
Steve Hackett,
Parry Music,
Tim Buckley,
Rekid,
Ossler,
Moss Icon,
Scrapy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deadbeat,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doors,
Franke,
Janne Schatter,
MDC,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Television Personalities,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
Barrington Levy,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Görl,
Los Fastidios,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
Lou Christie,
Wire,
Max Romeo,
Sällskapet,
Black Moon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dark Day,
Icehouse,
The United States of America,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crime,
The Divine Comedy,
Camberwell Now,
Fat Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Heaven 17,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mojo Men,
Blake Baxter,
Pantytec,
The Smoke,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Normal,
Flash Fearless,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Wyatt,
Scratch Acid,
Au Pairs,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.