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 Palau and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eric Copeland to the techno 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harmonia,
Shoche,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
DNA,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
The Smoke,
Smog,
Hoover,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris Corsano,
Faust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Schoolly D,
Neu!,
Theoretical Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
Slick Rick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Index,
Ludus,
Jacob Miller,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Anthony Braxton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hashim,
Heaven 17,
The Count Five,
Siglo XX,
Warsaw,
Can,
Davy DMX,
Scrapy,
Dead Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry's Kids,
Agitation Free,
Magazine,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dead C,
Porter Ricks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Womack,
The Happenings,
Cecil Taylor,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
The Names,
The Grass Roots,
T. Rex,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.