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 Panama and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Q and Not U to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Deakin,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Görl,
Whodini,
The New Christs,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pierre Henry,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Moebius,
Ohio Players,
Nick Fraelich,
John Coltrane,
The Leaves,
In Retrospect,
OOIOO,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sound,
June Days,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Byrd,
Freddie Wadling,
Steve Hackett,
Siglo XX,
Yusef Lateef,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
Fad Gadget,
Qualms,
Lalann,
Arab on Radar,
Black Sheep,
Max Romeo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sister Nancy,
The American Breed,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Sarah Menescal,
Q and Not U,
Harry Pussy,
the Sonics,
Surgeon,
Make Up,
The Raincoats,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
Animal Collective,
Index,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.