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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 David McCallum to the funk 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator 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 theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Michelle Simonal,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Little Man,
John Holt,
Brand Nubian,
Excepter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Almond,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Wyatt,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Knickerbockers,
Second Layer,
Desert Stars,
Easy Going,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flamin' Groovies,
Charles Mingus,
Jeff Mills,
Quantec,
The Music Machine,
Mandrill,
Josef K,
Buzzcocks,
Barry Ungar,
Dual Sessions,
Shoche,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sixth Finger,
Brick,
The Leaves,
Bill Wells,
Japan,
Basic Channel,
Ultra Naté,
Absolute Body Control,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aaron Thompson,
Metal Thangz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra,
June of 44,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wire,
Subhumans,
Dead Boys,
Colin Newman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
Q and Not U,
Ronnie Foster,
Amon Düül II,
Rod Modell,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
Ken Boothe,
John Foxx,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.