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 Chile and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Flipper,
Camouflage,
Rosa Yemen,
Quadrant,
The Kinks,
Rufus Thomas,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Barrington Levy,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Pharoah Sanders,
Supertramp,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Surgeon,
New York Dolls,
Derrick May,
Colin Newman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultra Naté,
Arthur Verocai,
Trumans Water,
Cybotron,
Gichy Dan,
T. Rex,
ABC,
Bill Wells,
Pole,
10cc,
Make Up,
Popol Vuh,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gang Green,
Monolake,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Audionom,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pantytec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Khruangbin,
Lightning Bolt,
Morten Harket,
Tim Buckley,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Byrd,
Nico,
Clear Light,
The Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DNA,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Human League,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.