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 Angola and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sonics to the disco 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Intrusion,
Youth Brigade,
Radio Birdman,
Cal Tjader,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gong,
Marvin Gaye,
Unrelated Segments,
Amon Düül,
The Smiths,
Drexciya,
Nirvana,
New Order,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
DJ Style,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Man Parrish,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crime,
Y Pants,
Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
Gregory Isaacs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
Fela Kuti,
Eden Ahbez,
Suicide,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Barracudas,
Graham Central Station,
Eric Copeland,
Zapp,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mr. Review,
Spandau Ballet,
Rapeman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pole,
Urselle,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ken Boothe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
Q65,
The Moody Blues,
Black Sheep,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
Dark Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.