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 Suriname and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Oblivians to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
Derrick Morgan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
Ponytail,
The Mojo Men,
Skriet,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
Faraquet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cal Tjader,
DJ Sneak,
Rites of Spring,
Gong,
Andrew Hill,
One Last Wish,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
The Vogues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Standells,
Smog,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warsaw,
Sound Behaviour,
Whodini,
Make Up,
Sparks,
Mars,
The Zeros,
Supertramp,
Sex Pistols,
Audionom,
Radiohead,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Martian,
The Sound,
K-Klass,
FM Einheit,
The Monochrome Set,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
Ken Boothe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Essential Logic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultravox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Parry Music,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.