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 Djibouti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Ossler to the punk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Red Krayola,
Ossler,
Vainqueur,
Scan 7,
Pussy Galore,
Kevin Saunderson,
Derrick Morgan,
Oblivians,
Gil Scott Heron,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
The Fortunes,
Cecil Taylor,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deepchord,
Quadrant,
The Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül,
The Pop Group,
Eric Dolphy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Letta Mbulu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Susan Cadogan,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric Copeland,
Stiv Bators,
Chrome,
The Stooges,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Urselle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Porter Ricks,
Youth Brigade,
Marvin Gaye,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Chris Corsano,
Arab on Radar,
The Young Rascals,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Green,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dual Sessions,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.