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 Portugal and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 The Wake to the electroclash 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Human League,
June Days,
Wally Richardson,
Black Pus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
Grey Daturas,
The American Breed,
Dark Day,
Ken Boothe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liliput,
Quadrant,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Qualms,
Subhumans,
Chris & Cosey,
Inner City,
Aural Exciters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Modern Lovers,
The Last Poets,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
MC5,
Grauzone,
Max Romeo,
Robert Hood,
Anthony Braxton,
The Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
The Litter,
Al Stewart,
H. Thieme,
The Blackbyrds,
James White and The Blacks,
Schoolly D,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Desert Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
The United States of America,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
Underground Resistance,
Cal Tjader,
Chris Corsano,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barry Ungar,
The Mojo Men,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra,
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
Sparks,
Fear,
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.