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 Haiti and from London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Arcadia,
Masters at Work,
Donald Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Evens,
Clear Light,
The Leaves,
Joe Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nation of Ulysses,
MDC,
Gichy Dan,
The American Breed,
Supertramp,
Pantaleimon,
T. Rex,
Angry Samoans,
Con Funk Shun,
Curtis Mayfield,
Funkadelic,
Ludus,
cv313,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
UT,
Minutemen,
The J.B.'s,
The Music Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Smiths,
Fear,
Aloha Tigers,
The Techniques,
John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moleskins,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
CMW,
In Retrospect,
The Blues Magoos,
L. Decosne,
Franke,
Urselle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Motorama,
Surgeon,
Dead Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
World's Most,
Heaven 17,
The Index,
a-ha,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.