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 Belarus and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Main Source to the grunge 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Neon Judgement,
Iggy Pop,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marc Almond,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Lynne,
Funkadelic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pylon,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Martian,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lyres,
Cal Tjader,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Television,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Real Kids,
Erykah Badu,
The Evens,
Swell Maps,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Techniques,
Pierre Henry,
Darondo,
Circle Jerks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
Lindisfarne,
Cecil Taylor,
the Slits,
Oblivians,
Harmonia,
Brothers Johnson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Anthony Braxton,
Nico,
UT,
Toni Rubio,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Intrusion,
Morten Harket,
Q65,
Connie Case,
the Association,
Second Layer,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.