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 Malta and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Mission of Burma,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minny Pops,
Rekid,
Connie Case,
Sam Rivers,
Bad Manners,
Au Pairs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
the Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Glenn Branca,
The Smoke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blake Baxter,
Pagans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
The Fortunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Banda Bassotti,
The New Christs,
Pere Ubu,
Archie Shepp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Inner City,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
Gregory Isaacs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Human League,
The Real Kids,
Neu!,
Judy Mowatt,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Basic Channel,
The Raincoats,
The Leaves,
The Human League,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Tremeloes,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rufus Thomas,
Skaos,
Jacob Miller,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
The Blues Magoos,
Charles Mingus,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.