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 Sweden and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Sheep to the grime 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angry Samoans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Offenders,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Scion,
Sex Pistols,
Mandrill,
Faust,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camouflage,
The Martian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Happenings,
Anakelly,
The Slackers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lungfish,
The Leaves,
Negative Approach,
the Bar-Kays,
Maurizio,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
The Velvet Underground,
Interpol,
MC5,
Alison Limerick,
Black Flag,
Soulsonic Force,
Ronan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Slave,
Darondo,
Yazoo,
The Five Americans,
Marc Almond,
The Move,
Monolake,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funky Four + One,
Carl Craig,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Henry Cow,
The Fall,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
The Divine Comedy,
DNA,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
the Human League,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.