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 Finland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Knickerbockers,
David Axelrod,
Robert Görl,
Barbara Tucker,
Warren Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
Youth Brigade,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Ludus,
The Raincoats,
Hoover,
Fat Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Leonard Cohen,
The Golliwogs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Supertramp,
The Zeros,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Index,
Fluxion,
Roger Hodgson,
Tim Buckley,
Animal Collective,
Oneida,
Eric B and Rakim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Y Pants,
Deakin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Basic Channel,
DJ Style,
Moebius,
Depeche Mode,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Donald Byrd,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minny Pops,
Lightning Bolt,
The Durutti Column,
Ronan,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
Interpol,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Magazine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.