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 Greece and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Masters at Work to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks 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?
Graham Central Station,
Boredoms,
The Associates,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
Tim Buckley,
Section 25,
The Tremeloes,
Sister Nancy,
The Dead C,
Stereo Dub,
Supertramp,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia,
Groovy Waters,
Monks,
Maurizio,
Matthew Halsall,
The Five Americans,
The Buckinghams,
Aaron Thompson,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Grass Roots,
The Fall,
FM Einheit,
Connie Case,
Moby Grape,
The Trojans,
R.M.O.,
The Monks,
Hashim,
Nico,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Faust,
Steve Hackett,
Todd Rundgren,
The Velvet Underground,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Dave Gahan,
Kas Product,
Zero Boys,
The Gories,
The Doors,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cybotron,
Hot Snakes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joey Negro,
Todd Terry,
Wally Richardson,
Joy Division,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quantec,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.