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 Cambodia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 DJ Style to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Blossom Toes,
Amazonics,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Schoolly D,
PIL,
T. Rex,
L. Decosne,
Joensuu 1685,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deadbeat,
Scratch Acid,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Bowie,
Television Personalities,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nico,
AZ,
Basic Channel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
Warsaw,
Donny Hathaway,
Parry Music,
The Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Scion,
Tres Demented,
R.M.O.,
Donald Byrd,
Blancmange,
Lungfish,
The Slackers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gun Club,
Swans,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
Ohio Players,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispy Ambulance,
Can,
Toni Rubio,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
The American Breed,
Ten City,
Kaleidoscope,
The Golliwogs,
Liliput,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fall,
Drexciya,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crime,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
The Associates,
Yusef Lateef,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.