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 Nigeria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Michelle Simonal to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Stereo Dub,
Rotary Connection,
Ice-T,
Cheater Slicks,
Lakeside,
The Names,
Crash Course in Science,
Basic Channel,
Roxy Music,
Albert Ayler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
Shoche,
the Slits,
Pussy Galore,
Los Fastidios,
Crime,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Grass Roots,
Fluxion,
Boogie Down Productions,
Altered Images,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Matthew Bourne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mr. Review,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
The Blues Magoos,
the Swans,
Wire,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Bush Tetras,
Thompson Twins,
Wings,
The Doors,
Radiohead,
Flash Fearless,
The Slits,
Juan Atkins,
Moss Icon,
Franke,
Robert Görl,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slackers,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.