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 China and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Parry Music to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cure,
Moss Icon,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Stooges,
Television Personalities,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Raincoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Wire,
Wally Richardson,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aloha Tigers,
The Neon Judgement,
Sam Rivers,
Jacob Miller,
Idris Muhammad,
The Evens,
X-Ray Spex,
Carl Craig,
Ponytail,
Eric Dolphy,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Derrick May,
Zapp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
AZ,
Dark Day,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Khruangbin,
Pere Ubu,
The Mummies,
Bobby Sherman,
Pierre Henry,
Mo-Dettes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Porter Ricks,
Fluxion,
Dead Boys,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Panda Bear,
Rapeman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lyres,
Bronski Beat,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.