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 Venezuela and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ponytail to the techno 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Faust,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oblivians,
Bauhaus,
The Litter,
Anakelly,
Aswad,
Ralphi Rosario,
DJ Sneak,
The Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skriet,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rakim,
Parry Music,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mars,
Graham Central Station,
Soft Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
Judy Mowatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Japan,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Hill,
Gang of Four,
Ken Boothe,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
Smog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacques Brel,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Martian,
Curtis Mayfield,
Symarip,
Toni Rubio,
Minor Threat,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Niagra,
Bluetip,
Juan Atkins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chrome,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
Zapp,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
Gichy Dan,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.