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 Bulgaria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monks to the punk 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Glenn Branca,
Moebius,
Fluxion,
Los Fastidios,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Funkadelic,
The Modern Lovers,
Grey Daturas,
Judy Mowatt,
Young Marble Giants,
The Skatalites,
R.M.O.,
Idris Muhammad,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
10cc,
Moss Icon,
Icehouse,
The Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Donny Hathaway,
Alison Limerick,
Joensuu 1685,
Faust,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
The Saints,
Circle Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Pretty Things,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roger Hodgson,
48th St. Collective,
June of 44,
Lyres,
Half Japanese,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unwound,
Lucky Dragons,
Isaac Hayes,
Albert Ayler,
Swell Maps,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
Tom Boy,
Sister Nancy,
Mark Hollis,
Fatback Band,
Negative Approach,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Excepter,
DJ Style,
The Music Machine,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.