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 Russia and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Unrelated Segments to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Mr. Review,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Flag,
Minnie Riperton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chrome,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kayak,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Warren Ellis,
The Velvet Underground,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Grass Roots,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
Gregory Isaacs,
T.S.O.L.,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
Colin Newman,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
In Retrospect,
X-102,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Womack,
Altered Images,
Alison Limerick,
The Last Poets,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Main Source,
Terry Callier,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Byrd,
Cymande,
June Days,
The Sonics,
H. Thieme,
Darondo,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.