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 Bhutan and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Freddie Wadling to the dance 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Max Romeo,
Todd Terry,
Radiohead,
Boogie Down Productions,
UT,
Lucky Dragons,
The Walker Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
Sparks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
Tears for Fears,
Sound Behaviour,
Excepter,
Hot Snakes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
Black Bananas,
Grey Daturas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bush Tetras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Con Funk Shun,
The Litter,
Bad Manners,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pulsallama,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cameo,
The Victims,
The Remains,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nas,
Organ,
Stetsasonic,
Adolescents,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Foxx,
Public Enemy,
Pylon,
The Fortunes,
New Age Steppers,
Gang of Four,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.