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 Ivory Coast and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sight & Sound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Loose Ends,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
Connie Case,
Aaron Thompson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
The J.B.'s,
The Slackers,
The Skatalites,
The Invisible,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fuzztones,
F. McDonald,
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Arab on Radar,
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
Joy Division,
The Zeros,
Anakelly,
Talk Talk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cramps,
Iggy Pop,
Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
Mars,
Steve Hackett,
the Germs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
Banda Bassotti,
Peter & Gordon,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maleditus Sound,
The Index,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
Ronan,
The Victims,
The Associates,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
Sparks,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
Blancmange,
Nas,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.