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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Donny Hathaway to the electroclash 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Kerrie Biddell,
JFA,
Faraquet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Holt,
Joe Finger,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television Personalities,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Marmalade,
Lucky Dragons,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
Brothers Johnson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Knickerbockers,
Goldenarms,
8 Eyed Spy,
48th St. Collective,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amon Düül II,
Sixth Finger,
John Cale,
Radiopuhelimet,
Graham Central Station,
Camouflage,
Jeff Lynne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
Fear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Niagra,
Adolescents,
Japan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Camberwell Now,
Bob Dylan,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythm & Sound,
Yellowson,
Sound Behaviour,
Rotary Connection,
Donald Byrd,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.