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 Kazakhstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Boz Scaggs to the rap 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Mantronix,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Laurel Aitken,
Spoonie Gee,
Echospace,
The Raincoats,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Byrd,
Quando Quango,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pulsallama,
David Bowie,
JFA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Finger,
Chris Corsano,
K-Klass,
Henry Cow,
Jacob Miller,
KRS-One,
Scientists,
Nik Kershaw,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wally Richardson,
DNA,
Bob Dylan,
The Mojo Men,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crime,
Thompson Twins,
New Age Steppers,
ABC,
Minnie Riperton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
Gang of Four,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chrome,
Erykah Badu,
Nas,
Negative Approach,
Porter Ricks,
Barclay James Harvest,
F. McDonald,
Cluster,
Jeff Mills,
Eurythmics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.