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 Mauritius and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Alton Ellis to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Arcadia,
These Immortal Souls,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman,
Das Ding,
Outsiders,
Aswad,
Adolescents,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
Prince Buster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Funkadelic,
Maurizio,
Crime,
Byron Stingily,
Barry Ungar,
The Shadows of Knight,
L. Decosne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unrelated Segments,
The Young Rascals,
Monks,
Second Layer,
Marc Almond,
Roger Hodgson,
Saccharine Trust,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amon Düül,
Soul II Soul,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Womack,
Flamin' Groovies,
Delta 5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Silicon Teens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
the Bar-Kays,
Aaron Thompson,
The Slackers,
Public Enemy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Lydon,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Wasted Youth,
the Normal,
Harmonia,
The Velvet Underground,
Nico,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül II,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Audionom,
Soulsonic Force,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.