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 Turkey and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Reagan Youth,
Boredoms,
The Monochrome Set,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Intrusion,
Cecil Taylor,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
Schoolly D,
The Moody Blues,
Bang On A Can,
Chrome,
The Smoke,
Sex Pistols,
EPMD,
The Blackbyrds,
Gregory Isaacs,
Visage,
Byron Stingily,
Babytalk,
Idris Muhammad,
Amazonics,
Pylon,
The Pretty Things,
Essential Logic,
Todd Rundgren,
Jacob Miller,
Unwound,
Henry Cow,
The Sound,
Jeff Mills,
The Fugs,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Barry Ungar,
Archie Shepp,
Young Marble Giants,
Barbara Tucker,
Eli Mardock,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
Marmalade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
Deakin,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy Collins,
Ludus,
The Names,
X-101,
Fat Boys,
Carl Craig,
Con Funk Shun,
Albert Ayler,
Basic Channel,
Angry Samoans,
Blake Baxter,
Gang Green,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.