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 Netherlands and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grunge 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Connie Case,
Minutemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Average White Band,
Magma,
The Dead C,
Con Funk Shun,
Flipper,
Stereo Dub,
Joyce Sims,
Sparks,
the Swans,
Marc Almond,
Scrapy,
Slave,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masters at Work,
Judy Mowatt,
E-Dancer,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
The Gun Club,
Soulsonic Force,
Q and Not U,
Rakim,
Nas,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Reagan Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Darondo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rapeman,
Simply Red,
Derrick Morgan,
The Real Kids,
Mr. Review,
Lee Hazlewood,
Warsaw,
The Star Department,
The Trojans,
Joensuu 1685,
CMW,
Mars,
Agitation Free,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
Drexciya,
Marine Girls,
Smog,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Goldenarms,
Derrick May,
Sällskapet,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.