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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Camouflage to the electroclash 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Enemy,
Letta Mbulu,
OOIOO,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Stooges,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
UT,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Schoolly D,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hoover,
Yellowson,
Black Bananas,
Q65,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nico,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yazoo,
Malaria!,
Metal Thangz,
Sugar Minott,
Jeru the Damaja,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Reagan Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Television,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultimate Spinach,
In Retrospect,
Motorama,
Magazine,
The Gories,
Blancmange,
Gong,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
H. Thieme,
Joyce Sims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Moody Blues,
Mantronix,
The Sound,
Zapp,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
Jesper Dahlback,
Television Personalities,
Lebanon Hanover,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.