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 Iceland and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Subhumans to the jazz 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Scratch Acid,
The Music Machine,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
Janne Schatter,
The Saints,
Barclay James Harvest,
Colin Newman,
Hot Snakes,
Freddie Wadling,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shoche,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minnie Riperton,
Graham Central Station,
Cameo,
The Standells,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smoke,
The Motions,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
the Swans,
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Toasters,
The Velvet Underground,
Mad Mike,
EPMD,
ABC,
Main Source,
Reuben Wilson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Durutti Column,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Starr,
The Stooges,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Techniques,
A Flock of Seagulls,
One Last Wish,
Buzzcocks,
The Vogues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Godley & Creme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gladiators,
Judy Mowatt,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.