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 Tonga and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
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 sitar 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 The Human League 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Au Pairs,
Harmonia,
Drexciya,
Suicide,
The Cowsills,
Eric Dolphy,
The Victims,
The Electric Prunes,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Agent Orange,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
Sound Behaviour,
The American Breed,
The Techniques,
Sam Rivers,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Glenn Branca,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
D'Angelo,
Erykah Badu,
Scratch Acid,
Prince Buster,
In Retrospect,
Alphaville,
Arthur Verocai,
Index,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
Wasted Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
New York Dolls,
Fad Gadget,
Lee Hazlewood,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faraquet,
Harpers Bizarre,
World's Most,
The Gladiators,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Duran Duran,
The Evens,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.