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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 ABC to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men 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?
The Beau Brummels,
Tubeway Army,
R.M.O.,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Scientists,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Associates,
MC5,
Dave Gahan,
Bronski Beat,
Albert Ayler,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
H. Thieme,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pretty Things,
Althea and Donna,
Brand Nubian,
Cluster,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Negative Approach,
Pierre Henry,
Subhumans,
Ohio Players,
Marine Girls,
the Soft Cell,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Hood,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cowsills,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skaos,
Ponytail,
Spoonie Gee,
Swell Maps,
Nas,
a-ha,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Zero Boys,
Lakeside,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
Fad Gadget,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bang On A Can,
The Misunderstood,
X-102,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Black Dice,
Echospace,
Matthew Halsall,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.