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 Germany and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Inner City,
The Grass Roots,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Mr. Review,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims,
The Buckinghams,
Spoonie Gee,
Motorama,
Sexual Harrassment,
Severed Heads,
Warren Ellis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Andrew Hill,
The Raincoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Model 500,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Bob Dylan,
the Association,
Bang On A Can,
The Music Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joey Negro,
L. Decosne,
UT,
Rosa Yemen,
Deakin,
Ultravox,
Loose Ends,
Groovy Waters,
the Normal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sight & Sound,
Joy Division,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
Talk Talk,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Lynne,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
Archie Shepp,
Schoolly D,
World's Most,
The Birthday Party,
Al Stewart,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
Barry Ungar,
John Foxx,
Eurythmics,
Hashim,
Harpers Bizarre,
U.S. Maple,
Roger Hodgson,
Yusef Lateef,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.