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 Macedonia and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Liliput to the rock 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Man Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Aaron Thompson,
Ituana,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Funky Four + One,
John Holt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
David Bowie,
Fatback Band,
The Moody Blues,
Interpol,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Infiniti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
X-102,
Minny Pops,
The Human League,
Severed Heads,
Crash Course in Science,
Sam Rivers,
Juan Atkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris Corsano,
Nils Olav,
Agent Orange,
Fela Kuti,
Main Source,
The Fugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marmalade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Danielle Patucci,
Patti Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
The Angels of Light,
New Order,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
Lindisfarne,
Theoretical Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Michelle Simonal,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
Bill Near,
Sällskapet,
The J.B.'s,
Tom Boy,
The Doobie Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pussy Galore,
Sandy B,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.