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 Algeria 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Human League to the techno 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Albert Ayler,
Eden Ahbez,
Leonard Cohen,
Janne Schatter,
Brass Construction,
Goldenarms,
Glenn Branca,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Talk Talk,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick,
The Cure,
The Searchers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sam Rivers,
Crash Course in Science,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Görl,
Laurel Aitken,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scan 7,
Fluxion,
Lalann,
Franke,
John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang On A Can,
John Lydon,
Fela Kuti,
48th St. Collective,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
Pierre Henry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Maurizio,
Fear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Derrick May,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare,
New Age Steppers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Last Poets,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alphaville,
Lee Hazlewood,
Clear Light,
Sugar Minott,
Connie Case,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cluster,
The Fall,
Mantronix,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.