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 Estonia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 funk 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dave Clark Five,
Y Pants,
Malaria!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
The Fuzztones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Massinfluence,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Accadde A,
the Swans,
Aswad,
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby,
Byron Stingily,
Ornette Coleman,
Soulsonic Force,
Section 25,
L. Decosne,
The Divine Comedy,
Mad Mike,
Eurythmics,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kaleidoscope,
10cc,
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Tremeloes,
Amazonics,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Ossler,
Janne Schatter,
Wolf Eyes,
Slave,
Pagans,
MC5,
The Vogues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Groovy Waters,
UT,
Lalo Schifrin,
Can,
Television,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radiohead,
The Moody Blues,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.