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 Yemen and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Von Mondo,
The Toasters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Alarm Clocks,
Accadde A,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mr. Review,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Harmonia,
The Modern Lovers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sarah Menescal,
Average White Band,
Roxy Music,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Skarface,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Oblivians,
Girls At Our Best!,
Little Man,
Quantec,
The Neon Judgement,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
Maurizio,
Alison Limerick,
Zapp,
Metal Thangz,
The Leaves,
The Searchers,
Letta Mbulu,
Sister Nancy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Womack,
Tommy Roe,
Chris Corsano,
the Sonics,
Camouflage,
The Durutti Column,
Sonic Youth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
The Mojo Men,
Minnie Riperton,
Radiopuhelimet,
The New Christs,
PIL,
Tears for Fears,
The Angels of Light,
Grauzone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kas Product,
June of 44,
Pantytec,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.