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 Zimbabwe and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ossler to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Darondo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fugazi,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Bad Manners,
Bang On A Can,
The Vogues,
Gang Starr,
PIL,
Bronski Beat,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Make Up,
Procol Harum,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABC,
CMW,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sandy B,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pop Group,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
Lalann,
The Trojans,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Amazonics,
Vladislav Delay,
The Associates,
Sister Nancy,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
Livin' Joy,
Mantronix,
The Flesh Eaters,
Steve Hackett,
Von Mondo,
Pantytec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smiths,
Arab on Radar,
Yellowson,
Don Cherry,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fuzztones,
Rosa Yemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deepchord,
Hoover,
Sun Ra,
Bauhaus,
Tubeway Army,
Shuggie Otis,
Outsiders,
John Cale,
Marine Girls,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.