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 Montenegro and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sex Pistols to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brothers Johnson,
Clear Light,
The Residents,
Amazonics,
Ludus,
Leonard Cohen,
Piero Umiliani,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Aswad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pantaleimon,
Yellowson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Qualms,
Bill Wells,
Juan Atkins,
Motorama,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
Intrusion,
The Divine Comedy,
Kas Product,
Popol Vuh,
Jawbox,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Invisible,
Gang of Four,
Unrelated Segments,
Lightning Bolt,
Donald Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
Arcadia,
Youth Brigade,
Crime,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
The Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
Sun City Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Neon Judgement,
Mantronix,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reagan Youth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.