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 Mauritania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 These Immortal Souls to the funk 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Sound Behaviour,
Tropical Tobacco,
James Chance & The Contortions,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barbara Tucker,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Supertramp,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mantronix,
AZ,
Section 25,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
The Blackbyrds,
The Seeds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mars,
Saccharine Trust,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brick,
The Fortunes,
The Residents,
Bush Tetras,
Black Pus,
Electric Prunes,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Franke,
The Gladiators,
Barrington Levy,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Maurizio,
Angry Samoans,
One Last Wish,
Alton Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
The Golliwogs,
X-Ray Spex,
Harmonia,
Inner City,
Y Pants,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Isaac Hayes,
Hardrive,
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.