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 Qatar and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Johnny Osbourne to the jazz 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Nas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heaven 17,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
The Slits,
Quantec,
Eden Ahbez,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Intrusion,
Soul II Soul,
48th St. Collective,
World's Most,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun City Girls,
Animal Collective,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
Ronnie Foster,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Chris & Cosey,
Tears for Fears,
Deadbeat,
Bronski Beat,
Visage,
Amazonics,
Bill Near,
Agent Orange,
The Flesh Eaters,
Metal Thangz,
Scientists,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
Camberwell Now,
Q65,
L. Decosne,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
Make Up,
Laurel Aitken,
Sound Behaviour,
Archie Shepp,
The Monochrome Set,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Byrd,
Matthew Halsall,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Foxx,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Moon,
Ultra Naté,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.