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 Gambia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DJ Sneak to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Brass Construction,
Malaria!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Crooked Eye,
Todd Rundgren,
Cal Tjader,
Liliput,
The Mojo Men,
Pole,
Surgeon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
The Pretty Things,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pierre Henry,
Minnie Riperton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yusef Lateef,
Blake Baxter,
Bluetip,
Main Source,
Jeff Lynne,
Monolake,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mission of Burma,
Bronski Beat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camouflage,
Lalann,
Isaac Hayes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radio Birdman,
The Divine Comedy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Rakim,
T. Rex,
Soul II Soul,
Joey Negro,
Lower 48,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Monks,
Agitation Free,
the Germs,
Eve St. Jones,
Barrington Levy,
Moebius,
Jacques Brel,
Guru Guru,
Alphaville,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.