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 United States and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Sherman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron 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?
Ice-T,
David Axelrod,
Faust,
John Foxx,
Soul II Soul,
Pantaleimon,
David Bowie,
The Black Dice,
Subhumans,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
UT,
The Fugs,
AZ,
The Doors,
Gichy Dan,
The Divine Comedy,
Excepter,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yusef Lateef,
Basic Channel,
Pussy Galore,
MC5,
Outsiders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Velvet Underground,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
A Certain Ratio,
The Invisible,
Skaos,
Boredoms,
Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Big Daddy Kane,
10cc,
Groovy Waters,
X-102,
Crash Course in Science,
Camberwell Now,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television Personalities,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
Mars,
Inner City,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Neu!,
The Skatalites,
Y Pants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dennis Brown,
Minnie Riperton,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.