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 Mozambique and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Crispy Ambulance to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Reagan Youth,
Fear,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
Dave Gahan,
Al Stewart,
Quadrant,
Television,
Bobby Womack,
Rapeman,
Marmalade,
The Searchers,
The Smiths,
DJ Sneak,
Brothers Johnson,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
Smog,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
Scratch Acid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-102,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Quantec,
Underground Resistance,
Archie Shepp,
The Happenings,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deakin,
Sun Ra,
Mo-Dettes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deepchord,
Ludus,
U.S. Maple,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Althea and Donna,
AZ,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Byrd,
Rakim,
Neil Young,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Eating Sloth,
T. Rex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Altered Images,
X-101,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pop Group,
Y Pants,
E-Dancer,
The Standells,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry's Kids,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.