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 Iceland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Sexual Harrassment to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Ituana,
The Human League,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Schoolly D,
The United States of America,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Clear Light,
John Cale,
Q65,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alphaville,
Simply Red,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Starr,
Todd Terry,
The Moody Blues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Absolute Body Control,
The Slackers,
Janne Schatter,
Royal Trux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moebius,
Niagra,
Minnie Riperton,
Basic Channel,
Aloha Tigers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Red Krayola,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jawbox,
The Young Rascals,
Freddie Wadling,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythm & Sound,
Don Cherry,
Camberwell Now,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fela Kuti,
Mission of Burma,
Donald Byrd,
The Leaves,
X-102,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warsaw,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
Archie Shepp,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.