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 Eritrea and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear,
Nirvana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unwound,
Chris & Cosey,
Rites of Spring,
Make Up,
Cybotron,
Average White Band,
DJ Style,
The Misunderstood,
Con Funk Shun,
F. McDonald,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Moody Blues,
Negative Approach,
Scrapy,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Arab on Radar,
Section 25,
Spandau Ballet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Bananas,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Walker Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Trumans Water,
Al Stewart,
Hoover,
Gang Green,
Yusef Lateef,
Arthur Verocai,
The Real Kids,
Davy DMX,
Johnny Osbourne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Procol Harum,
Organ,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Essential Logic,
Inner City,
Parry Music,
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Von Mondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.