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 Israel and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Organ to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Danielle Patucci,
The Martian,
Roxy Music,
Leonard Cohen,
Rites of Spring,
Shoche,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Hood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dennis Brown,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
Carl Craig,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Holt,
James White and The Blacks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Finger,
Rod Modell,
Altered Images,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pole,
Sight & Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid,
Mad Mike,
In Retrospect,
The Red Krayola,
Minutemen,
Cymande,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Womack,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
The Misunderstood,
Magma,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
Charles Mingus,
Simply Red,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sparks,
The United States of America,
John Lydon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.