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 Thailand and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lower 48 to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roxy Music,
The Young Rascals,
ABC,
Roxette,
JFA,
DJ Style,
Tubeway Army,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Pierre Henry,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
La Düsseldorf,
Harmonia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minnie Riperton,
The Beau Brummels,
Swans,
AZ,
Nils Olav,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Birthday Party,
The Leaves,
Tom Boy,
Black Sheep,
Tim Buckley,
Popol Vuh,
Pere Ubu,
The Walker Brothers,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Neil Young,
Wally Richardson,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cramps,
Judy Mowatt,
10cc,
Jeff Mills,
Ralphi Rosario,
June of 44,
The United States of America,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kas Product,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.