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 Kenya and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Goldenarms to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Wally Richardson,
Pylon,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare,
T. Rex,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skarface,
Clear Light,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
Nation of Ulysses,
Das Ding,
The Martian,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Warsaw,
Section 25,
Barry Ungar,
KRS-One,
Crash Course in Science,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brand Nubian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rekid,
Ponytail,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Average White Band,
Magazine,
Davy DMX,
The Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül,
Shoche,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Index,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doors,
Hot Snakes,
The Knickerbockers,
cv313,
The Residents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Charles Mingus,
The Techniques,
Rapeman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minor Threat,
Cymande,
10cc,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.