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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 theremin 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 The Selecter to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
June Days,
Au Pairs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gun Club,
Pylon,
Joe Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barrington Levy,
Wally Richardson,
Crispian St. Peters,
These Immortal Souls,
the Sonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
Sällskapet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Misunderstood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Fugazi,
Pantaleimon,
Fluxion,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gladiators,
E-Dancer,
Joy Division,
Sister Nancy,
Skriet,
Slave,
Sam Rivers,
Audionom,
Rufus Thomas,
Arthur Verocai,
Eddi Front,
The Angels of Light,
Flash Fearless,
Minny Pops,
T.S.O.L.,
Desert Stars,
Yellowson,
Pierre Henry,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Smiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slackers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Moleskins,
John Lydon,
Sight & Sound,
Procol Harum,
Banda Bassotti,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.