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 Sierra Leone and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the disco 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Jawbox,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Birthday Party,
Fluxion,
The Pretty Things,
Mission of Burma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Boredoms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lou Reed,
Amon Düül,
Smog,
Sugar Minott,
June Days,
Deepchord,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pulsallama,
Black Pus,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
D'Angelo,
Outsiders,
Technova,
Eric Copeland,
Ronnie Foster,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
Barclay James Harvest,
Das Ding,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Slick Rick,
Livin' Joy,
cv313,
John Lydon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
The Trojans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crime,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joyce Sims,
Nas,
Joe Smooth,
The Vogues,
Nils Olav,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.