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 Mauritius and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
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 sitar 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 Magazine to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Adolescents,
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
David McCallum,
Zapp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mo-Dettes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Magazine,
Black Flag,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Nils Olav,
World's Most,
Cameo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fear,
John Holt,
The Fortunes,
Max Romeo,
The Index,
The Motions,
Ice-T,
Arab on Radar,
Jawbox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tres Demented,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
Roxy Music,
Intrusion,
The Last Poets,
Derrick Morgan,
Barbara Tucker,
Malaria!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Halsall,
Lalo Schifrin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bad Manners,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
Toni Rubio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
L. Decosne,
The Sound,
Radio Birdman,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.