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 Turkmenistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare 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 Fortunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
F. McDonald,
The Real Kids,
Don Cherry,
Todd Terry,
Nik Kershaw,
Junior Murvin,
Mo-Dettes,
Danielle Patucci,
Anakelly,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Hood,
Qualms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ossler,
Dawn Penn,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Starr,
DNA,
The Fugs,
Eric Dolphy,
Amon Düül,
Leonard Cohen,
Erasure,
Brothers Johnson,
The Associates,
The American Breed,
Reuben Wilson,
Scrapy,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
Khruangbin,
Groovy Waters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gong,
Joensuu 1685,
Kenny Larkin,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
T. Rex,
Livin' Joy,
Soft Machine,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ken Boothe,
Royal Trux,
the Swans,
The Golliwogs,
Cecil Taylor,
Connie Case,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Juan Atkins,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angry Samoans,
Yazoo,
Masters at Work,
Scan 7,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.