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 Laos and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funky Four + One to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Charles Mingus,
Outsiders,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
Erykah Badu,
Ponytail,
Bluetip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Porter Ricks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Anthony Braxton,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacques Brel,
Judy Mowatt,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
Scott Walker,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
Bill Near,
Morten Harket,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Associates,
Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Colin Newman,
Loose Ends,
Eddi Front,
Danielle Patucci,
Stetsasonic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
Fear,
Thompson Twins,
The Victims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boredoms,
The United States of America,
Drexciya,
Section 25,
Derrick Morgan,
a-ha,
The Fire Engines,
The Remains,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
Echospace,
Black Moon,
Wasted Youth,
Quadrant,
Flipper,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Zapp,
Saccharine Trust,
Aural Exciters,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.