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 Cyprus and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 the Normal to the crunk 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Black Pus,
Matthew Bourne,
Deadbeat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nas,
The Dead C,
Lungfish,
Simply Red,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mark Hollis,
Zapp,
EPMD,
Smog,
B.T. Express,
Radiopuhelimet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-Ray Spex,
Ohio Players,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lower 48,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantaleimon,
Rites of Spring,
The Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
The Gap Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Monks,
Erykah Badu,
These Immortal Souls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed,
E-Dancer,
Marc Almond,
Adolescents,
The Detroit Cobras,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
Radio Birdman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxy Music,
Malaria!,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cure,
Kerri Chandler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Goldenarms,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.