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 Burkina and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Techniques to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
Albert Ayler,
Theoretical Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Martian,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deadbeat,
UT,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Motions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Newcleus,
The Blues Magoos,
Lower 48,
Sonic Youth,
Pole,
Scion,
Sex Pistols,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Raincoats,
The New Christs,
Circle Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
Nirvana,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lyres,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Suicide,
The Modern Lovers,
the Swans,
David Bowie,
Hashim,
Quadrant,
The Selecter,
Lightning Bolt,
Skaos,
Sixth Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
Procol Harum,
Television,
Scratch Acid,
Loose Ends,
Stetsasonic,
Faraquet,
X-Ray Spex,
DJ Style,
Hasil Adkins,
Mantronix,
Scientists,
Von Mondo,
The Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Piero Umiliani,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.