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 Eritrea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Arthur Verocai to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Duran Duran,
ABBA,
New York Dolls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
The Slits,
Television,
Los Fastidios,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Icehouse,
Bronski Beat,
Pussy Galore,
Blake Baxter,
Fugazi,
Swell Maps,
Chris & Cosey,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Talk Talk,
Desert Stars,
The Invisible,
Mark Hollis,
Fluxion,
Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
John Cale,
Moby Grape,
EPMD,
Section 25,
Bauhaus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Siglo XX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June Days,
Motorama,
Vladislav Delay,
F. McDonald,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
Dave Gahan,
Agitation Free,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Silicon Teens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Barrington Levy,
Traffic Nightmare,
U.S. Maple,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Drexciya,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.