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 Cuba and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Glenn Branca,
One Last Wish,
James White and The Blacks,
Todd Rundgren,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Count Five,
Quantec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sparks,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
The Busters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Enemy,
T. Rex,
Animal Collective,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Lebanon Hanover,
Inner City,
Anthony Braxton,
Judy Mowatt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Angels of Light,
The Fall,
The Remains,
Pulsallama,
Scion,
Ossler,
cv313,
The Star Department,
Black Flag,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funkadelic,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lucky Dragons,
Nico,
The Saints,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joyce Sims,
Scan 7,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Searchers,
New York Dolls,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.