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 Australia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 The Blackbyrds to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cheater Slicks,
Rites of Spring,
PIL,
John Foxx,
D'Angelo,
10cc,
Gang of Four,
Zapp,
ABBA,
Man Eating Sloth,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
cv313,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nils Olav,
Sun City Girls,
The New Christs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Remains,
The Music Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Barry Ungar,
Bush Tetras,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Anakelly,
Cybotron,
The United States of America,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pagans,
Ultravox,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masters at Work,
One Last Wish,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
Hardrive,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
Jacques Brel,
Monolake,
Scion,
Idris Muhammad,
Gregory Isaacs,
OOIOO,
R.M.O.,
David Axelrod,
Wire,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minny Pops,
Gil Scott Heron,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Brothers Johnson,
Essential Logic,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.