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 Congo and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the jazz 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Doobie Brothers,
Severed Heads,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cybotron,
Guru Guru,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
The Standells,
E-Dancer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masters at Work,
Leonard Cohen,
Index,
Youth Brigade,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Buzzcocks,
Lakeside,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
China Crisis,
Agitation Free,
Grauzone,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fall,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
Blancmange,
Cameo,
Joe Finger,
The Victims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
Goldenarms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Leaves,
the Human League,
The Sound,
Cluster,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smiths,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Babytalk,
KRS-One,
This Heat,
Lou Reed,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gichy Dan,
Television Personalities,
The Fortunes,
Rapeman,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.