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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flamin' Groovies to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy Collins,
Morten Harket,
8 Eyed Spy,
Danielle Patucci,
Mission of Burma,
The Gories,
DJ Sneak,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deadbeat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Bananas,
Gabor Szabo,
A Certain Ratio,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Ponytail,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
The Walker Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
Suburban Knight,
The Monochrome Set,
Technova,
Audionom,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Funky Four + One,
The Misunderstood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David McCallum,
Arcadia,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed,
Marvin Gaye,
Soulsonic Force,
Frankie Knuckles,
Porter Ricks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Pulsallama,
Jerry's Kids,
Massinfluence,
Nik Kershaw,
Faraquet,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
Smog,
Model 500,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alton Ellis,
The Beau Brummels,
Essential Logic,
Malaria!,
the Normal,
Excepter,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.