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 Denmark and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Janne Schatter,
Rites of Spring,
Dual Sessions,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Starr,
Nik Kershaw,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amazonics,
Drexciya,
Boz Scaggs,
Little Man,
Kerri Chandler,
Spoonie Gee,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Techniques,
Ohio Players,
The Monochrome Set,
Arthur Verocai,
Moebius,
Skriet,
The Beau Brummels,
Alison Limerick,
DJ Style,
A Certain Ratio,
The Searchers,
Slave,
Make Up,
Swell Maps,
Wings,
Fatback Band,
Delta 5,
Isaac Hayes,
Joey Negro,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marmalade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Echospace,
The Skatalites,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gabor Szabo,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
Silicon Teens,
Funky Four + One,
Erasure,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.