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 Norway and from Tehran.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Altered Images to the disco 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Tres Demented,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blues Magoos,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echospace,
Crime,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moby Grape,
The Residents,
Gang Gang Dance,
Blake Baxter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun City Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Scan 7,
Scion,
Max Romeo,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy Collins,
Tim Buckley,
Delta 5,
The Move,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Whodini,
H. Thieme,
The Gap Band,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deadbeat,
Charles Mingus,
The Associates,
The Kinks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MDC,
Swans,
Slave,
Colin Newman,
The Walker Brothers,
The Evens,
The Fall,
Mr. Review,
Duran Duran,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Cell,
Soft Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Gong,
Unrelated Segments,
K-Klass,
Gichy Dan,
Absolute Body Control,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bluetip,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Index,
Chris Corsano,
The Music Machine,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.