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 Mali and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 kango's stein massive to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
PIL,
Average White Band,
Niagra,
Make Up,
Terrestrial Tones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Newcleus,
The Young Rascals,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Suicide,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
H. Thieme,
Zapp,
Kaleidoscope,
Jandek,
Al Stewart,
Alison Limerick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deepchord,
Deakin,
Reagan Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
U.S. Maple,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
Malaria!,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
48th St. Collective,
Moss Icon,
John Cale,
Slave,
Hoover,
Gang Green,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
Fad Gadget,
Funkadelic,
Country Teasers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Porter Ricks,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül,
Minnie Riperton,
Echospace,
Spandau Ballet,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
Adolescents,
The Angels of Light,
Jacob Miller,
Quantec,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slits,
Lindisfarne,
Das Ding,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.