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 Paraguay and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Severed Heads to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Circle Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Faust,
Black Bananas,
Roxy Music,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lou Reed,
Dead Boys,
a-ha,
Adolescents,
The Gap Band,
Aswad,
Scientists,
Mad Mike,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ronnie Foster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gladiators,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lalann,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pulsallama,
B.T. Express,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
the Slits,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Desert Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Judy Mowatt,
Donny Hathaway,
Todd Rundgren,
Section 25,
Warsaw,
Peter and Kerry,
Simply Red,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mr. Review,
Henry Cow,
Eli Mardock,
Lindisfarne,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.