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 Kiribati and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Kurtis Blow,
Connie Case,
Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Toasters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Black Dice,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funky Four + One,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alton Ellis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gichy Dan,
The Motions,
Cecil Taylor,
Ponytail,
Zero Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Neil Young,
Aural Exciters,
Tears for Fears,
Junior Murvin,
Sam Rivers,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Sheep,
Bill Near,
Josef K,
Cluster,
Dual Sessions,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
F. McDonald,
Mantronix,
Marc Almond,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Main Source,
Rekid,
John Lydon,
Intrusion,
Lakeside,
This Heat,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cameo,
Todd Rundgren,
Urselle,
Chris & Cosey,
Alice Coltrane,
Thompson Twins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yaz,
Loose Ends,
Sun City Girls,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.