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 Bahamas and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Reuben Wilson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crime,
Ponytail,
Babytalk,
Tim Buckley,
Eddi Front,
KRS-One,
Peter and Kerry,
Ituana,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
H. Thieme,
FM Einheit,
The Victims,
Section 25,
Fear,
A Certain Ratio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gun Club,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Rundgren,
Neil Young,
Wally Richardson,
Janne Schatter,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thompson Twins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grauzone,
U.S. Maple,
Hot Snakes,
Infiniti,
X-Ray Spex,
Sugar Minott,
T. Rex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gap Band,
Joey Negro,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
ABC,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.