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 Botswana and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Motorama to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
the Germs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sight & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Cecil Taylor,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tom Boy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Siglo XX,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
Barry Ungar,
Yaz,
Zapp,
John Coltrane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Camberwell Now,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fela Kuti,
Nico,
the Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fluxion,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
The Toasters,
Dave Gahan,
The Kinks,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alison Limerick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Avey Tare,
Nils Olav,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Groovy Waters,
LL Cool J,
Anakelly,
Robert Görl,
Morten Harket,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minutemen,
Section 25,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.