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 Tuvalu and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Jacob Miller to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Al Stewart,
Guru Guru,
Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed,
The Mojo Men,
Magma,
Erasure,
Moss Icon,
In Retrospect,
Eric Copeland,
Royal Trux,
Monolake,
Joy Division,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grey Daturas,
The Index,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
Q and Not U,
The Human League,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
Animal Collective,
Black Pus,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Simply Red,
Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
Radio Birdman,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Green,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Skatalites,
Angry Samoans,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
Brass Construction,
China Crisis,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scientists,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rosa Yemen,
Vainqueur,
Heaven 17,
Derrick May,
Roger Hodgson,
Barry Ungar,
The Seeds,
Anthony Braxton,
Alton Ellis,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.