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 United Kingdom and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Durutti Column to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Trumans Water,
Grey Daturas,
The Last Poets,
X-102,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barrington Levy,
Slick Rick,
Aural Exciters,
The Buckinghams,
Country Joe & The Fish,
CMW,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantytec,
Erykah Badu,
Livin' Joy,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Deakin,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Human League,
Black Sheep,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
Rosa Yemen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Motions,
Marcia Griffiths,
H. Thieme,
The Offenders,
Oblivians,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donny Hathaway,
the Swans,
Joey Negro,
Quantec,
Motorama,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun Ra,
The Music Machine,
The Martian,
T.S.O.L.,
Niagra,
Black Flag,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-Ray Spex,
John Foxx,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
Television Personalities,
The Barracudas,
the Normal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.