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 Rwanda and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 The Toasters to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pierre Henry,
The Fuzztones,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
Goldenarms,
Ludus,
Junior Murvin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
X-Ray Spex,
New Age Steppers,
David Axelrod,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sister Nancy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yaz,
Ken Boothe,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cybotron,
The Golliwogs,
The Selecter,
R.M.O.,
Jeff Mills,
Suburban Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultravox,
John Coltrane,
Inner City,
Ituana,
Lucky Dragons,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kas Product,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Human League,
X-102,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Motions,
Japan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Essential Logic,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.