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 Canada and from Mumbai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cal Tjader to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
a-ha,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Graham Central Station,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cybotron,
Davy DMX,
Infiniti,
Fear,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Soft Cell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swell Maps,
The Trojans,
Metal Thangz,
Radio Birdman,
CMW,
Shuggie Otis,
Maurizio,
Sam Rivers,
X-101,
David Bowie,
MC5,
Vladislav Delay,
Suicide,
Fugazi,
Mantronix,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Anakelly,
Jandek,
Lou Christie,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
Los Fastidios,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Saints,
Erasure,
Marmalade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yazoo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun City Girls,
Average White Band,
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
Fela Kuti,
The Fall,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Animal Collective,
Brick,
Shoche,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.