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 Senegal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 the Soft Cell to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fall,
Max Romeo,
Youth Brigade,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Machine,
David McCallum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Parrish,
the Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
Inner City,
New Age Steppers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Mills,
Gabor Szabo,
The Leaves,
Wasted Youth,
Lalann,
Scan 7,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pretty Things,
Subhumans,
Thee Headcoats,
Little Man,
Sarah Menescal,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Isaac Hayes,
Rotary Connection,
DJ Style,
Amazonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
These Immortal Souls,
Cybotron,
The Fortunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Royal Trux,
Donald Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Darondo,
Idris Muhammad,
The Neon Judgement,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Wyatt,
Anakelly,
Barry Ungar,
The Slits,
Chrome,
The Moody Blues,
Organ,
Grey Daturas,
Swell Maps,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
Black Flag,
The Happenings,
kango's stein massive,
The Red Krayola,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.