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 Cape Verde and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blossom Toes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
CMW,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barry Ungar,
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
The Stooges,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
Crime,
JFA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MDC,
Mantronix,
Hashim,
E-Dancer,
Silicon Teens,
Audionom,
The Seeds,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Godley & Creme,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
Soul II Soul,
These Immortal Souls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
Bluetip,
Grey Daturas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magma,
June Days,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gastr Del Sol,
Piero Umiliani,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
Lucky Dragons,
John Cale,
Erykah Badu,
DNA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spoonie Gee,
Trumans Water,
Todd Terry,
Nirvana,
Hasil Adkins,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.