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 New Zealand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 8 Eyed Spy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Brand Nubian,
The Move,
JFA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donny Hathaway,
Monolake,
Roger Hodgson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Mark Hollis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arab on Radar,
June of 44,
Warren Ellis,
Siglo XX,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cal Tjader,
Young Marble Giants,
Quando Quango,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Half Japanese,
KRS-One,
The Knickerbockers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Silicon Teens,
Q and Not U,
K-Klass,
Reuben Wilson,
Minny Pops,
The Fugs,
B.T. Express,
Erykah Badu,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Ultra Naté,
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Loose Ends,
the Fania All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
The Martian,
Aaron Thompson,
The Vogues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pierre Henry,
Kaleidoscope,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
T. Rex,
David Bowie,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Television,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.