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 Indonesia and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Whodini,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Duran Duran,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
T. Rex,
Neil Young,
Sonic Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
UT,
Amon Düül,
Sällskapet,
Brass Construction,
Bronski Beat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
Make Up,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
Brothers Johnson,
Technova,
The Busters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Vainqueur,
The Moody Blues,
John Foxx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bluetip,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Sherman,
June of 44,
Chrome,
Los Fastidios,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sex Pistols,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rapeman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
D'Angelo,
Soft Machine,
Surgeon,
Kas Product,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Unwound,
E-Dancer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radio Birdman,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.