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 Hungary and from Philadelphia.
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 Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Donald Fagen 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 Last Poets to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
Ten City,
New Order,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
This Heat,
Carl Craig,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
New York Dolls,
Aural Exciters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boredoms,
The Pop Group,
Danielle Patucci,
Cybotron,
Aaron Thompson,
Hasil Adkins,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Josef K,
Parry Music,
The Cramps,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Christie,
Flipper,
the Swans,
Easy Going,
The Neon Judgement,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Music Machine,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
10cc,
Sun Ra,
Mark Hollis,
The Moody Blues,
Gabor Szabo,
The Skatalites,
Colin Newman,
La Düsseldorf,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pulsallama,
The Evens,
Darondo,
Michelle Simonal,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.