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 Samoa and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Lee Hazlewood to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Tremeloes,
Essential Logic,
The Fugs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thompson Twins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Desert Stars,
Pole,
Rod Modell,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
Tubeway Army,
The Gap Band,
The Move,
Shoche,
Bill Near,
Wolf Eyes,
Drexciya,
Eric Dolphy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barrington Levy,
Depeche Mode,
Whodini,
Q and Not U,
Brand Nubian,
Faust,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
Angry Samoans,
The Gladiators,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Ice-T,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hardrive,
Byron Stingily,
Pere Ubu,
The Gories,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
Jawbox,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arthur Verocai,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.