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 Ethiopia and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nation of Ulysses to the grime 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Pierre Henry,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Negative Approach,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Byrd,
The Martian,
Maleditus Sound,
Suicide,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Visage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Max Romeo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Birthday Party,
Deepchord,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
AZ,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Pus,
Schoolly D,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grauzone,
Erykah Badu,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultimate Spinach,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-102,
Warren Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
The Toasters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang of Four,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.