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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Eric B and Rakim to the punk 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Divine Comedy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scan 7,
The Gap Band,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Womack,
Crooked Eye,
Loose Ends,
The Skatalites,
Minutemen,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shoche,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
Smog,
Easy Going,
Arthur Verocai,
James White and The Blacks,
Barry Ungar,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lightning Bolt,
DJ Style,
Public Enemy,
The Happenings,
the Slits,
Fat Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
CMW,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masters at Work,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Camouflage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
the Soft Cell,
Talk Talk,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monochrome Set,
Electric Prunes,
Erykah Badu,
Whodini,
Suicide,
The Victims,
The Sound,
Schoolly D,
Sun City Girls,
Dennis Brown,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.