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 Singapore and from Milan.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the rap 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Nils Olav,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Mantronix,
Make Up,
Kayak,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Wyatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Surgeon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gun Club,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
Erasure,
David Bowie,
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
Oblivians,
Gang Green,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Anakelly,
Lyres,
Visage,
Mandrill,
This Heat,
Roxy Music,
Oneida,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Depeche Mode,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Icehouse,
Robert Hood,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare,
Dorothy Ashby,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
D'Angelo,
Eden Ahbez,
Donny Hathaway,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Eve St. Jones,
Fat Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Barrington Levy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Dolphy,
the Slits,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.