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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Minutemen to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
The Gun Club,
Public Image Ltd.,
Schoolly D,
Moby Grape,
Index,
Marmalade,
Rakim,
Hardrive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
Qualms,
Metal Thangz,
Barrington Levy,
Spandau Ballet,
KRS-One,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
Visage,
Au Pairs,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crime,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maurizio,
X-101,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Delta 5,
Peter & Gordon,
Model 500,
Archie Shepp,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
Los Fastidios,
Ultravox,
Terry Callier,
Soulsonic Force,
Scion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Swans,
Intrusion,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Mark Hollis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
The Evens,
Symarip,
Kurtis Blow,
CMW,
Brothers Johnson,
Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.