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 Jamaica and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 Guru Guru to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Davy DMX,
Quadrant,
The Happenings,
Matthew Bourne,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
Hoover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Michelle Simonal,
Hot Snakes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Josef K,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fluxion,
June of 44,
Funky Four + One,
Sound Behaviour,
Byron Stingily,
Graham Central Station,
Symarip,
Basic Channel,
John Lydon,
Siglo XX,
Zapp,
the Association,
Amazonics,
Ossler,
The Cramps,
The Electric Prunes,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Bananas,
Yellowson,
The Toasters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Five Americans,
Max Romeo,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Rosa Yemen,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalann,
The Evens,
Technova,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Litter,
Black Moon,
Simply Red,
Royal Trux,
The Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cowsills,
James White and The Blacks,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.