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 United States and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gastr Del Sol to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Lalann,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lower 48,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mark Hollis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
Black Pus,
Swell Maps,
The Names,
Fatback Band,
Hashim,
Cal Tjader,
Dual Sessions,
Skriet,
Scott Walker,
Kayak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
The Leaves,
Ten City,
Ronnie Foster,
Crooked Eye,
The Kinks,
Soft Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes,
Sun City Girls,
Max Romeo,
Dawn Penn,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monolake,
Flipper,
The Saints,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Bourne,
Aloha Tigers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Age Steppers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Music Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Ohio Players,
Joe Finger,
MC5,
U.S. Maple,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Star Department,
10cc,
Byron Stingily,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.