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 Honduras and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
Newcleus,
Black Moon,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
Bush Tetras,
The Dave Clark Five,
China Crisis,
Con Funk Shun,
Davy DMX,
Sällskapet,
Minnie Riperton,
Patti Smith,
Schoolly D,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sound Behaviour,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Erykah Badu,
H. Thieme,
Aaron Thompson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The J.B.'s,
Hoover,
the Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
Khruangbin,
Chris & Cosey,
The Happenings,
The Five Americans,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Starr,
New Order,
Max Romeo,
Rites of Spring,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Judy Mowatt,
Scientists,
Minor Threat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sex Pistols,
Supertramp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Slave,
The Selecter,
Von Mondo,
Animal Collective,
Prince Buster,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gories,
Accadde A,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.