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 Switzerland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pulsallama to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonic Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Scrapy,
Fad Gadget,
This Heat,
Bob Dylan,
Tropical Tobacco,
B.T. Express,
Rites of Spring,
Albert Ayler,
Colin Newman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
The New Christs,
Dual Sessions,
Depeche Mode,
Marvin Gaye,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
The Slackers,
KRS-One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Smooth,
The Selecter,
Duran Duran,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier,
Soul II Soul,
Icehouse,
Blancmange,
Alphaville,
Cymande,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Throbbing Gristle,
Idris Muhammad,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sun City Girls,
The Star Department,
Loose Ends,
Banda Bassotti,
Malaria!,
Eve St. Jones,
Connie Case,
The Raincoats,
The Cowsills,
the Germs,
Schoolly D,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smiths,
Joyce Sims,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
Isaac Hayes,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.