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 Bangladesh and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Soulsonic Force to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
The J.B.'s,
Pole,
Parry Music,
Archie Shepp,
Delta 5,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
June of 44,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Wells,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camouflage,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quadrant,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eddi Front,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flipper,
Amon Düül,
Gerry Rafferty,
Circle Jerks,
China Crisis,
Yusef Lateef,
Silicon Teens,
Theoretical Girls,
Chrome,
The Golliwogs,
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Sneak,
The Offenders,
Fatback Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
Sarah Menescal,
Eden Ahbez,
Minutemen,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
The Red Krayola,
Lalann,
Gang of Four,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cramps,
Outsiders,
The Busters,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.