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 Thailand and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
UT,
Lower 48,
The Buckinghams,
AZ,
Ossler,
Blancmange,
Country Teasers,
Model 500,
Niagra,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Tears for Fears,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June of 44,
The Fuzztones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alison Limerick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
The Divine Comedy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Trumans Water,
T.S.O.L.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kevin Saunderson,
Procol Harum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Mantronix,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Animal Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pylon,
Banda Bassotti,
Barbara Tucker,
Crash Course in Science,
The Busters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scan 7,
Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
U.S. Maple,
The Red Krayola,
Television,
The Cure,
The Sound,
Patti Smith,
The Skatalites,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fugazi,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masters at Work,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.