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 Turkey and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Amazonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Byron Stingily,
Bootsy Collins,
Minnie Riperton,
Glenn Branca,
Animal Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
Average White Band,
Cluster,
Pulsallama,
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mojo Men,
Rosa Yemen,
Alphaville,
Moby Grape,
Nils Olav,
Sparks,
Altered Images,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Laurel Aitken,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sister Nancy,
Sonic Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fugs,
Derrick May,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
FM Einheit,
Bizarre Inc.,
Depeche Mode,
Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Bang On A Can,
Quantec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joyce Sims,
Vainqueur,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Essential Logic,
Procol Harum,
Funkadelic,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moss Icon,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Teasers,
Pole,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.