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 Switzerland and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Agent Orange to the grime 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Names,
Tommy Roe,
Niagra,
Swans,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Enemy,
Camberwell Now,
Max Romeo,
Janne Schatter,
Quadrant,
Letta Mbulu,
Massinfluence,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Rakim,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Tim Buckley,
Zero Boys,
Panda Bear,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roxy Music,
Gang Green,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Techniques,
Amazonics,
MDC,
Lakeside,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun City Girls,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Barry Ungar,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick Morgan,
Bill Near,
Connie Case,
New Order,
Stereo Dub,
Echospace,
Donald Byrd,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Coltrane,
The New Christs,
EPMD,
Accadde A,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Rundgren,
The Happenings,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
Boz Scaggs,
Amon Düül II,
Scrapy,
Mission of Burma,
Jacques Brel,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.