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 Portugal and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Alton Ellis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
Smog,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Fraelich,
PIL,
The Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Slick Rick,
The Misunderstood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Essential Logic,
The Gladiators,
a-ha,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Alison Limerick,
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
Schoolly D,
Tubeway Army,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minnie Riperton,
Cheater Slicks,
Max Romeo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ice-T,
Ultra Naté,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Finger,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boredoms,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
Peter and Kerry,
Das Ding,
Nik Kershaw,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Thee Headcoats,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes,
Vainqueur,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.