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 Iceland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Gang of Four to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Eric Copeland,
Cal Tjader,
Steve Hackett,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dead Boys,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ohio Players,
Wings,
Duran Duran,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hoover,
Sixth Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Harry Pussy,
Reuben Wilson,
Chris Corsano,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
Q and Not U,
Laurel Aitken,
Unwound,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
The Skatalites,
The Gun Club,
Dual Sessions,
Siglo XX,
Monks,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Womack,
Stiv Bators,
The Modern Lovers,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare,
Don Cherry,
Sun Ra,
Can,
The Blues Magoos,
Aswad,
Skarface,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.