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 Comoros and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sly & The Family Stone 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Moebius,
Marshall Jefferson,
Main Source,
The Skatalites,
The Count Five,
John Cale,
Wally Richardson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Names,
Franke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Last Poets,
Pole,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Shuggie Otis,
The New Christs,
Maleditus Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blues Magoos,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
Carl Craig,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Colin Newman,
The Moleskins,
Von Mondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Connie Case,
Lebanon Hanover,
Second Layer,
In Retrospect,
Tubeway Army,
Echospace,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
Tres Demented,
Metal Thangz,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alphaville,
PIL,
Ken Boothe,
Nico,
Lower 48,
Tommy Roe,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Moon,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rod Modell,
Aloha Tigers,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
The Raincoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.