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 Israel and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 David Bowie 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 Tom Boy to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slits,
Can,
Roy Ayers,
Parry Music,
48th St. Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacob Miller,
The Move,
Mandrill,
Kayak,
UT,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Technova,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
Amon Düül,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bootsy Collins,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Remains,
the Human League,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Excepter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hasil Adkins,
Rites of Spring,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eli Mardock,
The Moody Blues,
Ornette Coleman,
Depeche Mode,
Suicide,
Mad Mike,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Gang of Four,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.