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 Antigua and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 One Last Wish to the punk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Panda Bear,
Cluster,
Moss Icon,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
The Divine Comedy,
U.S. Maple,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars,
The Gap Band,
Y Pants,
Eddi Front,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David McCallum,
Vainqueur,
Boz Scaggs,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
The Last Poets,
Thompson Twins,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Almond,
Television,
Zapp,
Marmalade,
The Blues Magoos,
X-101,
Animal Collective,
Zero Boys,
The Litter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Age Steppers,
The Sonics,
One Last Wish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lalann,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kaleidoscope,
Deakin,
Dark Day,
Carl Craig,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Charles Mingus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
Heaven 17,
Scan 7,
Ituana,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.