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 Palau and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Patti Smith to the rock 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review 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?
MDC,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Charles Mingus,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
cv313,
Donald Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
These Immortal Souls,
Panda Bear,
Flipper,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
The Music Machine,
Ultra Naté,
Bluetip,
Drexciya,
The Moleskins,
Graham Central Station,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Robert Wyatt,
Judy Mowatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Malaria!,
Dual Sessions,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
The Selecter,
the Association,
Television,
Franke,
Cymande,
Bush Tetras,
Curtis Mayfield,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skaos,
The Techniques,
Animal Collective,
The Wake,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
H. Thieme,
Adolescents,
F. McDonald,
Kurtis Blow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
Scion,
Newcleus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lungfish,
Scratch Acid,
Delon & Dalcan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Steve Hackett,
One Last Wish,
Neu!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.