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 San Marino and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delon & Dalcan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Panda Bear,
Unwound,
Archie Shepp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Johnny Clarke,
Danielle Patucci,
Dennis Brown,
Camouflage,
Minnie Riperton,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agent Orange,
Matthew Bourne,
Thee Headcoats,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nik Kershaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Holt,
Accadde A,
Massinfluence,
Khruangbin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funky Four + One,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Main Source,
Glenn Branca,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Reuben Wilson,
Pulsallama,
Freddie Wadling,
Josef K,
The Misunderstood,
Connie Case,
Ultravox,
Eric Dolphy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barrington Levy,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Trojans,
Joensuu 1685,
Magma,
Faust,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Invisible,
The Fortunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Piero Umiliani,
Moby Grape,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.