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 Kenya and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Al Stewart,
Pantaleimon,
Ludus,
The Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacques Brel,
Danielle Patucci,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Happenings,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lucky Dragons,
Toni Rubio,
Rekid,
Slave,
Yazoo,
The Martian,
Marshall Jefferson,
Interpol,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Donny Hathaway,
Procol Harum,
T.S.O.L.,
Jawbox,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rotary Connection,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Intrusion,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Residents,
The Grass Roots,
Skriet,
Monolake,
Tres Demented,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eli Mardock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Techniques,
Nico,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
Subhumans,
John Holt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Outsiders,
Hashim,
Wally Richardson,
Soul II Soul,
Swell Maps,
The Mojo Men,
The Tremeloes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Flag,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.