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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Suicide to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
One Last Wish,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
Q65,
Roger Hodgson,
Dave Gahan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tom Boy,
Subhumans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terry Callier,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eden Ahbez,
Sällskapet,
Lightning Bolt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
B.T. Express,
Television,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Unrelated Segments,
Wasted Youth,
Ludus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Stetsasonic,
Pole,
Public Enemy,
Slick Rick,
Lungfish,
Agitation Free,
Sight & Sound,
Goldenarms,
The Dead C,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Severed Heads,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
U.S. Maple,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kayak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
K-Klass,
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Index,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerrie Biddell,
Junior Murvin,
The Offenders,
Porter Ricks,
Mission of Burma,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cybotron,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.