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 Vanuatu and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Iggy Pop to the electroclash 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Rufus Thomas,
Adolescents,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
the Fania All-Stars,
Half Japanese,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fall,
Animal Collective,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mummies,
Tom Boy,
Darondo,
The Golliwogs,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Sarah Menescal,
Jawbox,
Anthony Braxton,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Copeland,
Infiniti,
The Happenings,
Youth Brigade,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw,
The Music Machine,
AZ,
The Saints,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cure,
World's Most,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Parrish,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Television,
Symarip,
Ten City,
This Heat,
Eden Ahbez,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
La Düsseldorf,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
David Bowie,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.