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 Mexico and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana 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?
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Radio Birdman,
Icehouse,
Liliput,
Lalo Schifrin,
June of 44,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Supertramp,
Nas,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Deepchord,
Junior Murvin,
The Residents,
Sugar Minott,
Bush Tetras,
R.M.O.,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Buckinghams,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brick,
James White and The Blacks,
Tears for Fears,
the Human League,
The Cowsills,
Gang Starr,
Television,
Blake Baxter,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Intrusion,
John Lydon,
Quando Quango,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Tomorrow,
Flash Fearless,
Yellowson,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lindisfarne,
X-102,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Zeros,
Heaven 17,
Country Teasers,
Angry Samoans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moebius,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül II,
Stetsasonic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.