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 Ecuador and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
Camouflage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Byrd,
Monks,
Yellowson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Urselle,
Niagra,
Babytalk,
Roxy Music,
Marmalade,
cv313,
John Lydon,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Todd Rundgren,
Blake Baxter,
Delon & Dalcan,
The United States of America,
Gabor Szabo,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joe Finger,
The Wake,
Index,
The Music Machine,
The Stooges,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Pretty Things,
Man Eating Sloth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dead Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
Flipper,
Technova,
The Dead C,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
Main Source,
Danielle Patucci,
The Invisible,
Jawbox,
Moby Grape,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bob Dylan,
The Martian,
Wally Richardson,
Siglo XX,
Porter Ricks,
Joey Negro,
Wire,
The Victims,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.