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 Argentina and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Accadde A to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
The Searchers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Saints,
Sun City Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
John Lydon,
New York Dolls,
MC5,
The Dead C,
The Residents,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Birthday Party,
Roxy Music,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
James White and The Blacks,
Animal Collective,
CMW,
Traffic Nightmare,
Khruangbin,
Aural Exciters,
Main Source,
Davy DMX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ludus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Organ,
Alphaville,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Starr,
The Offenders,
Marc Almond,
Sandy B,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fat Boys,
Black Flag,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grauzone,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
Hoover,
Theoretical Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masters at Work,
Jawbox,
Rufus Thomas,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy Collins,
The Divine Comedy,
Marvin Gaye,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.