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 Mauritania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aloha Tigers,
Anakelly,
The Barracudas,
The Durutti Column,
Davy DMX,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
B.T. Express,
Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Franke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Nils Olav,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grey Daturas,
the Slits,
The Smiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
Index,
Guru Guru,
Silicon Teens,
Cymande,
MC5,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dark Day,
Peter & Gordon,
The Associates,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yaz,
The Fall,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Detroit Cobras,
Trumans Water,
Eric Copeland,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
Desert Stars,
AZ,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed,
Brass Construction,
Neu!,
Bronski Beat,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Agent Orange,
Scott Walker,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.