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 Brazil and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the disco 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Reagan Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
June of 44,
Ohio Players,
China Crisis,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joyce Sims,
Bootsy Collins,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Wyatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Busters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Cymande,
Icehouse,
Alton Ellis,
Joey Negro,
Joy Division,
Tubeway Army,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Basic Channel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eric Dolphy,
The J.B.'s,
The Detroit Cobras,
Delta 5,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeff Lynne,
The Durutti Column,
Grauzone,
Erykah Badu,
Scott Walker,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lucky Dragons,
Section 25,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Accadde A,
The Offenders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alphaville,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.