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 Singapore and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Bluetip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Roy Ayers,
John Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sound,
Boredoms,
The Star Department,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fall,
Connie Case,
Marine Girls,
The United States of America,
The Red Krayola,
ABBA,
Marc Almond,
R.M.O.,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr,
The Wake,
DJ Sneak,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
The Young Rascals,
Eddi Front,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mad Mike,
Sound Behaviour,
Arab on Radar,
Reagan Youth,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Fad Gadget,
Black Moon,
Bush Tetras,
Organ,
Archie Shepp,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sandy B,
Black Sheep,
Bill Wells,
Stereo Dub,
the Swans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Symarip,
Scratch Acid,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Janne Schatter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mars,
Hot Snakes,
Wire,
Sixth Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Talk Talk,
Isaac Hayes,
Donald Byrd,
Tommy Roe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.