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 Maldives and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slick Rick to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moebius,
Pharoah Sanders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Morten Harket,
Siglo XX,
Unrelated Segments,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boz Scaggs,
Nas,
Spandau Ballet,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
The Leaves,
Cluster,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deakin,
The Electric Prunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rufus Thomas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultra Naté,
Symarip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Negative Approach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dead Boys,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Womack,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Sherman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rekid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
EPMD,
Index,
Vainqueur,
Hoover,
Nico,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Wyatt,
Eden Ahbez,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Patti Smith,
ABBA,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.