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 Rwanda and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Soulsonic Force to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Brick,
Bobby Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
La Düsseldorf,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Pierre Henry,
Chris Corsano,
Au Pairs,
Pagans,
Dawn Penn,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bush Tetras,
Janne Schatter,
The Five Americans,
Vainqueur,
OOIOO,
Panda Bear,
Lou Christie,
Pantaleimon,
Stetsasonic,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Tommy Roe,
Mantronix,
New Order,
The Durutti Column,
Absolute Body Control,
The Star Department,
Fatback Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pantytec,
Essential Logic,
CMW,
Joy Division,
Eden Ahbez,
Crash Course in Science,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
Sam Rivers,
The American Breed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Glenn Branca,
Mission of Burma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül,
Black Moon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Popol Vuh,
World's Most,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.