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 Samoa and from New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Colin Newman,
Joyce Sims,
cv313,
Ohio Players,
The Remains,
Ronan,
Fluxion,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lakeside,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erykah Badu,
Con Funk Shun,
Blossom Toes,
Roxy Music,
Essential Logic,
Faust,
Electric Prunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Parry Music,
Maleditus Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Das Ding,
Deadbeat,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
Josef K,
Henry Cow,
Average White Band,
Moss Icon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Surgeon,
Neil Young,
Slave,
Mars,
The Angels of Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soulsonic Force,
The Monochrome Set,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pylon,
Eden Ahbez,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Germs,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jerry's Kids,
Qualms,
A Certain Ratio,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Beau Brummels,
Erasure,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moebius,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.