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 Azerbaijan and from Lagos.
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 Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Bad Manners to the funk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Surgeon,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
the Germs,
the Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
X-102,
Cheater Slicks,
The Searchers,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Scott Walker,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dirtbombs,
Crime,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rekid,
Maleditus Sound,
Stetsasonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Terry,
Peter and Kerry,
Das Ding,
Heaven 17,
Scan 7,
Metal Thangz,
K-Klass,
Davy DMX,
Suicide,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!,
Pantytec,
Camouflage,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Moon,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thompson Twins,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
U.S. Maple,
World's Most,
Matthew Halsall,
Moss Icon,
Brick,
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.