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 Nigeria and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Japan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
Skriet,
John Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
Minnie Riperton,
Barbara Tucker,
Tommy Roe,
Groovy Waters,
Moby Grape,
Nas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Adolescents,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
The Selecter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
These Immortal Souls,
Silicon Teens,
Drive Like Jehu,
K-Klass,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
Young Marble Giants,
Kenny Larkin,
Matthew Halsall,
Thee Headcoats,
Darondo,
Guru Guru,
Tears for Fears,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
F. McDonald,
Metal Thangz,
Royal Trux,
Letta Mbulu,
Radio Birdman,
The Barracudas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Make Up,
Minor Threat,
Ituana,
Black Moon,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
Skarface,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Freddie Wadling,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dark Day,
D'Angelo,
Drexciya,
Roger Hodgson,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Tremeloes,
Intrusion,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.