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 Chile and from London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Wally Richardson,
Animal Collective,
Dark Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Little Man,
Adolescents,
Barry Ungar,
The Sonics,
Simply Red,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
Jacques Brel,
Davy DMX,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Remains,
Severed Heads,
Q and Not U,
Girls At Our Best!,
Negative Approach,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
The Moody Blues,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Crash Course in Science,
Unwound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joensuu 1685,
kango's stein massive,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Index,
Monolake,
Deepchord,
Brick,
OOIOO,
Mo-Dettes,
Ituana,
DJ Sneak,
Theoretical Girls,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tears for Fears,
Outsiders,
Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-102,
Erykah Badu,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
H. Thieme,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Amon Düül II,
The Sound,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.