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 Zambia and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ 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 Ultra Naté to the techno 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Howard Jones,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Parry Music,
Joensuu 1685,
Q and Not U,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Angry Samoans,
The Pretty Things,
Rekid,
Jacques Brel,
Mandrill,
Sugar Minott,
Scan 7,
The Blues Magoos,
Moebius,
Thompson Twins,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Ludus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radio Birdman,
JFA,
Faust,
Rotary Connection,
Anakelly,
Essential Logic,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
Fugazi,
Underground Resistance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Wells,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Groovy Waters,
The Young Rascals,
The Gap Band,
PIL,
Amon Düül,
Bill Near,
Theoretical Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
The Raincoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
AZ,
ABBA,
Little Man,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Scion,
Cymande,
Gang Starr,
Black Bananas,
H. Thieme,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.