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 Saudi Arabia and from London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Mills,
Pantaleimon,
Soulsonic Force,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Scott Walker,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cheater Slicks,
E-Dancer,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rosa Yemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra,
Peter and Kerry,
Joey Negro,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Scan 7,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy Collins,
The Red Krayola,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jandek,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sam Rivers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alphaville,
Soft Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ohio Players,
Soul II Soul,
The Move,
Whodini,
This Heat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers,
Freddie Wadling,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Matthew Bourne,
The Searchers,
Anakelly,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hashim,
Fad Gadget,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Godley & Creme,
Sight & Sound,
Deakin,
Mantronix,
Barrington Levy,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.