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 Libya and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Spoonie Gee,
Wasted Youth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Icehouse,
Bill Wells,
The Gun Club,
Lucky Dragons,
Joy Division,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deadbeat,
Rotary Connection,
Pierre Henry,
Mark Hollis,
Hasil Adkins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ituana,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kaleidoscope,
This Heat,
Warsaw,
Juan Atkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Lebanon Hanover,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brick,
New York Dolls,
The Residents,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Second Layer,
Donald Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
The Music Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
June Days,
Donny Hathaway,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wire,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David McCallum,
The Human League,
Gang of Four,
The Modern Lovers,
Smog,
Erykah Badu,
Sun City Girls,
Barry Ungar,
Cheater Slicks,
Accadde A,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Moon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tommy Roe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.