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 Slovenia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Holger Czukay 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 Model 500 to the techno 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Nirvana,
Prince Buster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yaz,
Camouflage,
These Immortal Souls,
Index,
The Litter,
Glenn Branca,
Curtis Mayfield,
Don Cherry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Alice Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Bronski Beat,
Gong,
Fluxion,
The Move,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dawn Penn,
Minny Pops,
Juan Atkins,
Brass Construction,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Searchers,
Trumans Water,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Holt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sonic Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Subhumans,
Magazine,
Rekid,
The Modern Lovers,
Guru Guru,
Aloha Tigers,
The Red Krayola,
Kenny Larkin,
Todd Rundgren,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Standells,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blake Baxter,
Ponytail,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television,
Harry Pussy,
The Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thompson Twins,
Ohio Players,
Shuggie Otis,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.