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 Belarus and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Doors to the rap 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Mojo Men,
Severed Heads,
Rites of Spring,
Stiv Bators,
Gong,
Faraquet,
Yellowson,
James White and The Blacks,
Rufus Thomas,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
Susan Cadogan,
The Toasters,
Brass Construction,
Frankie Knuckles,
EPMD,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Walker Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
Maurizio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Metal Thangz,
Popol Vuh,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slick Rick,
MC5,
Ronnie Foster,
Liliput,
the Swans,
Agent Orange,
Sällskapet,
Amazonics,
Warsaw,
Fatback Band,
Zapp,
Donald Byrd,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Warren Ellis,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Massinfluence,
Max Romeo,
Ronan,
Quadrant,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Intrusion,
Von Mondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
K-Klass,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Al Stewart,
Minor Threat,
Inner City,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.