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 Russia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gastr Del Sol to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Danielle Patucci,
B.T. Express,
Funkadelic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tubeway Army,
Cal Tjader,
Jawbox,
Grauzone,
Harpers Bizarre,
Maleditus Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Dave Gahan,
Suburban Knight,
The Martian,
the Slits,
Little Man,
Zero Boys,
Nirvana,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Green,
Sparks,
Cameo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Zeros,
Al Stewart,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
Lalann,
The Five Americans,
The Names,
Bobby Womack,
MC5,
Ultra Naté,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minnie Riperton,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Cybotron,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dead C,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mantronix,
Ultravox,
Tommy Roe,
Khruangbin,
Quantec,
Sun Ra,
The Blackbyrds,
The Modern Lovers,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Wells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eddi Front,
Warren Ellis,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.