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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Knickerbockers to the jazz 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Moon,
Q65,
Lungfish,
The Raincoats,
Peter & Gordon,
The Modern Lovers,
Reagan Youth,
Scratch Acid,
In Retrospect,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Stiv Bators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Easy Going,
B.T. Express,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül II,
Babytalk,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
Newcleus,
Joensuu 1685,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Faust,
Aloha Tigers,
the Germs,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
Harry Pussy,
Pierre Henry,
Television Personalities,
Motorama,
John Lydon,
The Mojo Men,
Albert Ayler,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cameo,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alice Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
Essential Logic,
Masters at Work,
Black Pus,
Fatback Band,
Inner City,
Malaria!,
Davy DMX,
The Real Kids,
EPMD,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.