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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 D'Angelo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Kurtis Blow,
Yusef Lateef,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-101,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxy Music,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Red Krayola,
The Litter,
Idris Muhammad,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Almond,
The Misunderstood,
Magazine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Country Teasers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Duran Duran,
Livin' Joy,
Television Personalities,
The Dave Clark Five,
Howard Jones,
Index,
Intrusion,
DNA,
John Coltrane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Grass Roots,
L. Decosne,
Crime,
The Flesh Eaters,
Visage,
The Wake,
Eric Dolphy,
The Residents,
Tears for Fears,
Dual Sessions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
The Slackers,
Judy Mowatt,
Toni Rubio,
The Mojo Men,
Ken Boothe,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Subhumans,
Rakim,
Funky Four + One,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.