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 Lesotho and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Patti Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Evens,
The Doobie Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
T.S.O.L.,
Joe Smooth,
The Fall,
Guru Guru,
Pierre Henry,
Blake Baxter,
Sparks,
Stetsasonic,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gories,
This Heat,
Loose Ends,
X-Ray Spex,
Los Fastidios,
The Golliwogs,
Arab on Radar,
Sister Nancy,
K-Klass,
Nik Kershaw,
Underground Resistance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Whodini,
Soulsonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultravox,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
Godley & Creme,
Scan 7,
Eli Mardock,
The Mojo Men,
Bill Wells,
The Stooges,
Eden Ahbez,
Animal Collective,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
L. Decosne,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
E-Dancer,
Black Bananas,
New Age Steppers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brass Construction,
a-ha,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker,
ABC,
Anthony Braxton,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.