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 Nicaragua and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Unwound,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Style,
Wire,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
Charles Mingus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Skarface,
Al Stewart,
Danielle Patucci,
Rotary Connection,
Roxette,
Desert Stars,
Au Pairs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Black Sheep,
Roger Hodgson,
Colin Newman,
The Monochrome Set,
The Stooges,
Severed Heads,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra,
Nik Kershaw,
Royal Trux,
Fela Kuti,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Tears for Fears,
The Durutti Column,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tres Demented,
Tim Buckley,
Lalann,
Darondo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Enemy,
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
Quadrant,
Joyce Sims,
Little Man,
Spandau Ballet,
Kurtis Blow,
Brothers Johnson,
The Pretty Things,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
Matthew Halsall,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.