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 Afghanistan and from London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet 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 Fatback Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras 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?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Golliwogs,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Section 25,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grey Daturas,
Sam Rivers,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liliput,
Fatback Band,
Barry Ungar,
Ludus,
Pantytec,
Archie Shepp,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Popol Vuh,
Newcleus,
The Associates,
Intrusion,
E-Dancer,
The Gladiators,
Joensuu 1685,
Dark Day,
Bush Tetras,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aloha Tigers,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Television Personalities,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mr. Review,
U.S. Maple,
Terrestrial Tones,
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dennis Brown,
OOIOO,
Babytalk,
John Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Faust,
Saccharine Trust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Human League,
Stetsasonic,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Letta Mbulu,
Loose Ends,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
F. McDonald,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.