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 Mozambique and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Newcleus to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
The Gun Club,
Negative Approach,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
Heaven 17,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slackers,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
Scion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Archie Shepp,
Flash Fearless,
Sixth Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
Television,
Nas,
Thee Headcoats,
Scratch Acid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ludus,
Rotary Connection,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
Gabor Szabo,
Tommy Roe,
the Swans,
JFA,
Gong,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Move,
Motorama,
Ralphi Rosario,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Faust,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
David McCallum,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
The Five Americans,
Joey Negro,
Pet Shop Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siglo XX,
Eurythmics,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.