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 Nepal and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pagans to the jazz 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drive Like Jehu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
The Tremeloes,
Roger Hodgson,
Althea and Donna,
Mission of Burma,
Funkadelic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tres Demented,
The Star Department,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
The Techniques,
The Raincoats,
ABBA,
Jandek,
The United States of America,
Aaron Thompson,
Camouflage,
Cecil Taylor,
Erasure,
Bob Dylan,
Ronan,
Anakelly,
The Fall,
Vainqueur,
Blancmange,
Charles Mingus,
The Selecter,
The Stooges,
Gichy Dan,
The Fire Engines,
R.M.O.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Howard Jones,
Pantaleimon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Motorama,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Echospace,
The Names,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Wells,
Skriet,
Idris Muhammad,
Flipper,
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.