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 Italy and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
New Order,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funky Four + One,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Eve St. Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Last Poets,
Ituana,
Rhythm & Sound,
June of 44,
Morten Harket,
John Cale,
Model 500,
The Pop Group,
Excepter,
Aloha Tigers,
Suicide,
Lalann,
Sixth Finger,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lungfish,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Television,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe,
Hasil Adkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Gabor Szabo,
The Index,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
The Angels of Light,
The Gun Club,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
Silicon Teens,
Reagan Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Kayak,
The Victims,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Motorama,
Faraquet,
Cheater Slicks,
Interpol,
X-101,
Jeff Mills,
Tom Boy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Womack,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.