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 Djibouti and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Normal to the disco 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Bill Wells,
Absolute Body Control,
Moebius,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
OOIOO,
Amon Düül II,
The Buckinghams,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Essential Logic,
Drexciya,
Das Ding,
Audionom,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiopuhelimet,
Robert Görl,
Prince Buster,
John Holt,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Smiths,
Ultra Naté,
Sugar Minott,
Masters at Work,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kaleidoscope,
Youth Brigade,
Crime,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Sneak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Simply Red,
Grauzone,
Metal Thangz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
Section 25,
Soul II Soul,
The Residents,
The Misunderstood,
Ralphi Rosario,
JFA,
a-ha,
Alison Limerick,
The Gories,
The Evens,
In Retrospect,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eddi Front,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxette,
Cal Tjader,
Bob Dylan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Schoolly D,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.