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 Bulgaria and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terrestrial Tones,
One Last Wish,
John Lydon,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gories,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
JFA,
Eddi Front,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Absolute Body Control,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bush Tetras,
KRS-One,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gap Band,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Smiths,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Ten City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mummies,
Flash Fearless,
Trumans Water,
Frankie Knuckles,
The J.B.'s,
T. Rex,
Robert Wyatt,
Technova,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Black Pus,
AZ,
The Durutti Column,
Suicide,
MDC,
The Residents,
Motorama,
Minny Pops,
Lebanon Hanover,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Au Pairs,
Black Bananas,
Oneida,
Aaron Thompson,
Maleditus Sound,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.