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 Tonga and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 The Offenders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Can,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arcadia,
Malaria!,
Crash Course in Science,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pierre Henry,
Joy Division,
Faraquet,
Magazine,
Cheater Slicks,
Nas,
The Gladiators,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Techniques,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash,
Little Man,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
Theoretical Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soft Machine,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Görl,
Sarah Menescal,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Kurtis Blow,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Swans,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
ABBA,
Amon Düül II,
Swell Maps,
Public Enemy,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blake Baxter,
Altered Images,
Darondo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
DNA,
The Walker Brothers,
Yazoo,
Spandau Ballet,
Fela Kuti,
David Bowie,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.