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 Belgium and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
B.T. Express,
Lakeside,
Scrapy,
R.M.O.,
Black Pus,
Reagan Youth,
The Cure,
The Barracudas,
Roxette,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
Y Pants,
Babytalk,
The Blackbyrds,
Lucky Dragons,
Television Personalities,
Lower 48,
Supertramp,
Dead Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Charles Mingus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Faust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Moon,
Fad Gadget,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
Goldenarms,
Japan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Clarke,
D'Angelo,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Wyatt,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Pop Group,
E-Dancer,
Heaven 17,
the Normal,
Eli Mardock,
Essential Logic,
Alphaville,
Magazine,
Severed Heads,
Motorama,
Yellowson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lightning Bolt,
Franke,
The Grass Roots,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.