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 Fiji and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Sixth Finger to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Brand Nubian,
Roger Hodgson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sixth Finger,
The Moleskins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hashim,
Darondo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Sheep,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marc Almond,
Quantec,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun City Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Associates,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
Donald Byrd,
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Skatalites,
the Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Radiopuhelimet,
Qualms,
Nico,
Eve St. Jones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Byrd,
H. Thieme,
The Music Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Max Romeo,
Crime,
Carl Craig,
Duran Duran,
Byron Stingily,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Machine,
Television,
The Standells,
Altered Images,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Reuben Wilson,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Mark Hollis,
Connie Case,
Sonny Sharrock,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.