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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Juan Atkins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Cal Tjader,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Duran Duran,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jandek,
Erykah Badu,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Newcleus,
The Smiths,
Goldenarms,
Pere Ubu,
Archie Shepp,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Colin Newman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cheater Slicks,
Excepter,
Nils Olav,
Shoche,
Malaria!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Smog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The United States of America,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Hood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wings,
Hoover,
Tomorrow,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
Flash Fearless,
Television,
Sister Nancy,
The New Christs,
The Names,
Jerry's Kids,
Fugazi,
Aaron Thompson,
Swans,
The Selecter,
Popol Vuh,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun City Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Bananas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.