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 Burkina and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Trumans Water to the electroclash 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Albert Ayler,
Joey Negro,
Aural Exciters,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Zeros,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Technova,
MC5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Procol Harum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
Eric Dolphy,
Slick Rick,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
Michelle Simonal,
The Beau Brummels,
the Slits,
Anakelly,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Order,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Rapeman,
DNA,
Janne Schatter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Womack,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Joyce Sims,
H. Thieme,
Banda Bassotti,
Maleditus Sound,
Arab on Radar,
The Smoke,
Danielle Patucci,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Style,
Gang Starr,
The Cure,
The Techniques,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.