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 Vietnam and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 John Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Marc Almond,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Second Layer,
The Smiths,
Jacob Miller,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magazine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
Flash Fearless,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Near,
The Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Osbourne,
Negative Approach,
Archie Shepp,
The Star Department,
Inner City,
Rufus Thomas,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mojo Men,
David Bowie,
Shuggie Otis,
Skriet,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
Agitation Free,
The Gun Club,
Mr. Review,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Don Cherry,
Procol Harum,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül,
Lyres,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minny Pops,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Dolphy,
Boredoms,
The Walker Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pierre Henry,
Roxy Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Zapp,
Albert Ayler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
Intrusion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.