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 Hungary and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hot Snakes to the grime 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
The Count Five,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
Lalann,
Sällskapet,
Country Teasers,
The Motions,
Sparks,
Index,
Johnny Clarke,
David McCallum,
Janne Schatter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joe Finger,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
Marshall Jefferson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
The Grass Roots,
The Fall,
Zapp,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Albert Ayler,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warsaw,
Jawbox,
Absolute Body Control,
Blake Baxter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unwound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Magma,
Tropical Tobacco,
UT,
These Immortal Souls,
Talk Talk,
Cheater Slicks,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Japan,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Jandek,
Rapeman,
cv313,
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.