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 Madagascar and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the crunk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Black Moon,
Sight & Sound,
Motorama,
Subhumans,
Donny Hathaway,
Eli Mardock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hardrive,
Pylon,
Buzzcocks,
Blossom Toes,
John Coltrane,
Simply Red,
Marmalade,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Offenders,
Mantronix,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
The United States of America,
Yazoo,
Nick Fraelich,
Parry Music,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Trumans Water,
Nico,
Audionom,
John Holt,
Carl Craig,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Pantaleimon,
Wings,
Bootsy Collins,
10cc,
Bill Wells,
Rapeman,
The Cramps,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultra Naté,
Althea and Donna,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Buckinghams,
The Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.