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 Jordan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rock 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Pantytec,
cv313,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine,
Barbara Tucker,
the Bar-Kays,
Qualms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roxy Music,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
L. Decosne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agitation Free,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Last Poets,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Green,
Marvin Gaye,
Spoonie Gee,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Visage,
Arthur Verocai,
Marmalade,
Gabor Szabo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grey Daturas,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlback,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker,
Amazonics,
Aural Exciters,
Barrington Levy,
The Kinks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New York Dolls,
Hashim,
Cymande,
Lindisfarne,
Pulsallama,
Moebius,
R.M.O.,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fad Gadget,
The Neon Judgement,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
The Blackbyrds,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.