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 Uganda and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 U.S. Maple to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a theremin 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 rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Symarip,
Rod Modell,
Second Layer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yazoo,
The Modern Lovers,
Make Up,
Fela Kuti,
Funky Four + One,
UT,
Rekid,
PIL,
Soul Sonic Force,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Skatalites,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra,
The Fugs,
Spandau Ballet,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
Joe Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cowsills,
David Axelrod,
The Doors,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Holt,
Scratch Acid,
Main Source,
Pagans,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Skriet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks,
June of 44,
Wally Richardson,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mojo Men,
the Bar-Kays,
Toni Rubio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lungfish,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.