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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Public Enemy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
The Searchers,
Brothers Johnson,
Fatback Band,
Brick,
Quadrant,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
Mandrill,
Intrusion,
Iggy Pop,
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
A Certain Ratio,
Slick Rick,
Yusef Lateef,
Susan Cadogan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Franke,
Fad Gadget,
Crash Course in Science,
Hot Snakes,
Zero Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Rites of Spring,
Zapp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
U.S. Maple,
Aaron Thompson,
Parry Music,
These Immortal Souls,
Arab on Radar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cybotron,
The Vogues,
Ten City,
Piero Umiliani,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gladiators,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cramps,
The Seeds,
The Busters,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
In Retrospect,
Gang Green,
Heaven 17,
Hoover,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Lynne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.