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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 the Fania All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Neon Judgement,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Sneak,
Con Funk Shun,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jeff Mills,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Man Eating Sloth,
Motorama,
Tom Boy,
Morten Harket,
Alison Limerick,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Blossom Toes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Warren Ellis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jandek,
Eddi Front,
Alice Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Barry Ungar,
Archie Shepp,
Rakim,
Thee Headcoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Oneida,
John Foxx,
Q65,
Technova,
The Litter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Little Man,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Holt,
The Monks,
Arcadia,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Raincoats,
Ultravox,
Icehouse,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Black Moon,
Cybotron,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Smooth,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.