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 Algeria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
Fear,
Soul II Soul,
Freddie Wadling,
Iggy Pop,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Loose Ends,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eden Ahbez,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Electric Prunes,
Ossler,
The Dead C,
Minnie Riperton,
Spoonie Gee,
Yellowson,
Joe Smooth,
Das Ding,
Trumans Water,
Reagan Youth,
Connie Case,
Pharoah Sanders,
Supertramp,
Soulsonic Force,
The Smoke,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Morten Harket,
Bronski Beat,
The Move,
D'Angelo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
F. McDonald,
Arthur Verocai,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shuggie Otis,
Von Mondo,
David McCallum,
Make Up,
Dave Gahan,
Lucky Dragons,
Kayak,
Flash Fearless,
Silicon Teens,
The Pretty Things,
Mars,
Sister Nancy,
The Knickerbockers,
Prince Buster,
MDC,
Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.