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 Ivory Coast and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Delon & Dalcan to the dance 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fad Gadget,
Chris & Cosey,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Sandy B,
James White and The Blacks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
EPMD,
John Holt,
Nick Fraelich,
The J.B.'s,
Graham Central Station,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Black Bananas,
Robert Hood,
DNA,
Nas,
Au Pairs,
Johnny Clarke,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Lynne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
The Names,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marc Almond,
Bronski Beat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
World's Most,
Ice-T,
Ludus,
F. McDonald,
The Mojo Men,
ABBA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hoover,
The Martian,
Urselle,
Godley & Creme,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.