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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dorothy Ashby 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Sam Rivers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lower 48,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Angels of Light,
Masters at Work,
Kayak,
The Standells,
Pantaleimon,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Martian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joey Negro,
The Remains,
The Fortunes,
The Smoke,
48th St. Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stockholm Monsters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Anthony Braxton,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Five Americans,
Henry Cow,
Y Pants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Almond,
Metal Thangz,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott Heron,
James White and The Blacks,
Minor Threat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Loose Ends,
Ultravox,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Sonics,
Minny Pops,
Gong,
Spoonie Gee,
The Knickerbockers,
Country Teasers,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
Simply Red,
Fad Gadget,
Eric Copeland,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
Talk Talk,
Shuggie Otis,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.