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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Y Pants,
The Gap Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joensuu 1685,
Pierre Henry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Trumans Water,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Techniques,
Fugazi,
Lee Hazlewood,
Flipper,
Terry Callier,
The Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
Rosa Yemen,
Alice Coltrane,
The Index,
Sound Behaviour,
The Residents,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
Banda Bassotti,
Fear,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Saints,
The Standells,
Alison Limerick,
Quadrant,
Archie Shepp,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mojo Men,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Normal,
PIL,
The Fortunes,
Niagra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agitation Free,
Bad Manners,
Simply Red,
Swell Maps,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
Scott Walker,
Eyeless In Gaza,
H. Thieme,
Franke,
Angry Samoans,
Sam Rivers,
Kool Moe Dee,
This Heat,
The Leaves,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.