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 Romania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Donald Byrd to the funk 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Ohio Players,
Donny Hathaway,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
U.S. Maple,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Nas,
Aural Exciters,
Fluxion,
Lou Christie,
Glenn Branca,
Half Japanese,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Green,
Khruangbin,
Section 25,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slits,
The Fugs,
B.T. Express,
Traffic Nightmare,
Underground Resistance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rufus Thomas,
Delta 5,
The Mummies,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
Judy Mowatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Sex Pistols,
Slave,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tres Demented,
Roxy Music,
Pierre Henry,
The Monks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boredoms,
Tears for Fears,
Erykah Badu,
the Normal,
EPMD,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mr. Review,
Joyce Sims,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Animal Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wire,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.