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 Peru and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Lower 48 to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Moleskins,
Main Source,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Parrish,
The Cramps,
David McCallum,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Depeche Mode,
Liliput,
Spoonie Gee,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Stetsasonic,
Byron Stingily,
The Durutti Column,
The Mojo Men,
The Birthday Party,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
H. Thieme,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Foxx,
Lower 48,
June Days,
Judy Mowatt,
U.S. Maple,
Ossler,
Cal Tjader,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxette,
Anthony Braxton,
Bootsy Collins,
Los Fastidios,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
Whodini,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
Erasure,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Michelle Simonal,
Kas Product,
Bluetip,
Loose Ends,
Circle Jerks,
Junior Murvin,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eden Ahbez,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.