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 Malawi and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord 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 Stooges to the punk 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Model 500,
10cc,
The United States of America,
Banda Bassotti,
The Neon Judgement,
Smog,
Eric Copeland,
Mission of Burma,
Los Fastidios,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Duran Duran,
Goldenarms,
Crash Course in Science,
ABBA,
Jeru the Damaja,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantaleimon,
R.M.O.,
The Cure,
Hashim,
The Names,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
World's Most,
Mo-Dettes,
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
Deakin,
The Moleskins,
The Red Krayola,
Public Enemy,
Ponytail,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suicide,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crime,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sight & Sound,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Offenders,
Reuben Wilson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bizarre Inc.,
Laurel Aitken,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funkadelic,
Terry Callier,
These Immortal Souls,
Lightning Bolt,
Sex Pistols,
Faraquet,
Radiopuhelimet,
MC5,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.