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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 Mark Hollis to the rock 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Danielle Patucci,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scan 7,
Nation of Ulysses,
Qualms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
Maleditus Sound,
Oblivians,
Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronan,
Fugazi,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Age Steppers,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
Vainqueur,
Minor Threat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
The Monks,
Don Cherry,
The Real Kids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dave Gahan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
Tubeway Army,
Wings,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Connie Case,
The Count Five,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
Blake Baxter,
Q65,
Gichy Dan,
Symarip,
Excepter,
Scion,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.