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 Gabon and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron 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 These Immortal Souls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
The Residents,
Jawbox,
Yaz,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
Mandrill,
The Slits,
Alison Limerick,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pole,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marshall Jefferson,
Laurel Aitken,
Colin Newman,
The Litter,
Mo-Dettes,
The Skatalites,
World's Most,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Fela Kuti,
Livin' Joy,
10cc,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kenny Larkin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Junior Murvin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oblivians,
Derrick May,
The Selecter,
Visage,
Slave,
Inner City,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
Scott Walker,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
The Invisible,
Byron Stingily,
Monks,
JFA,
Anthony Braxton,
Tears for Fears,
Roxy Music,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.