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 Mozambique and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Sonny Sharrock to the disco 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
The Count Five,
Boredoms,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
Radio Birdman,
Tom Boy,
Cal Tjader,
The Techniques,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sound Behaviour,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rekid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cure,
Heaven 17,
Bang On A Can,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Bowie,
U.S. Maple,
The Human League,
Marmalade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Sherman,
Groovy Waters,
Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Eve St. Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wolf Eyes,
Arthur Verocai,
Clear Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tres Demented,
Brass Construction,
MC5,
Masters at Work,
Sonic Youth,
Alphaville,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Hill,
Basic Channel,
John Lydon,
Mars,
Bluetip,
Spandau Ballet,
Piero Umiliani,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric Copeland,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.