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 Gabon and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 L. Decosne to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Drive Like Jehu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Martian,
Warren Ellis,
The New Christs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
L. Decosne,
the Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
the Bar-Kays,
The Tremeloes,
Lower 48,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
Banda Bassotti,
The Real Kids,
Gastr Del Sol,
The J.B.'s,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Excepter,
Grey Daturas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joyce Sims,
UT,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
The Busters,
Los Fastidios,
Guru Guru,
James White and The Blacks,
Mr. Review,
The Techniques,
Peter & Gordon,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Sheep,
Ponytail,
Simply Red,
Scion,
Marvin Gaye,
Procol Harum,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Red Krayola,
Chrome,
Ituana,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.