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 Ghana and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the techno 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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Marmalade,
Brothers Johnson,
Byron Stingily,
Agent Orange,
MC5,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Coltrane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ken Boothe,
Deakin,
Saccharine Trust,
Chris Corsano,
Mad Mike,
Spandau Ballet,
Rosa Yemen,
Supertramp,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultimate Spinach,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Absolute Body Control,
Mission of Burma,
Symarip,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smiths,
Sound Behaviour,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
The Mojo Men,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bad Manners,
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
The Remains,
Radiohead,
The Fortunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Das Ding,
Gang of Four,
Oneida,
The Offenders,
Neu!,
Eric Dolphy,
Kaleidoscope,
Sexual Harrassment,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare,
Fluxion,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.