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 Equatorial Guinea and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the funk 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Derrick May,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Inner City,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Osbourne,
cv313,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Don Cherry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Enemy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grauzone,
Erasure,
Fugazi,
Outsiders,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Crispy Ambulance,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Easy Going,
Skarface,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
Blancmange,
PIL,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Misunderstood,
Scion,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bill Wells,
Peter and Kerry,
Icehouse,
The Moody Blues,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deadbeat,
Yusef Lateef,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nils Olav,
Steve Hackett,
The Cowsills,
New Order,
Babytalk,
Sarah Menescal,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
Quantec,
Todd Rundgren,
Cluster,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.