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 Djibouti and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the crunk 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Roxy Music,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
John Cale,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
U.S. Maple,
Masters at Work,
Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
David Axelrod,
LL Cool J,
Das Ding,
Gabor Szabo,
The Trojans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
A Certain Ratio,
Darondo,
CMW,
Easy Going,
Porter Ricks,
Little Man,
The Red Krayola,
Eddi Front,
the Human League,
Fugazi,
Slick Rick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Pus,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crooked Eye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Dennis Brown,
Faust,
Moby Grape,
Dawn Penn,
Agent Orange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Finger,
Gang Green,
Spoonie Gee,
The Toasters,
OOIOO,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barclay James Harvest,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Black Flag,
Mo-Dettes,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.