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 Nigeria and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Terrestrial Tones to the crunk 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
The Slits,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Maleditus Sound,
The United States of America,
Groovy Waters,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
Marvin Gaye,
Oneida,
Gang Starr,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Normal,
Country Teasers,
Pulsallama,
DJ Sneak,
Slave,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cramps,
Ten City,
The Pretty Things,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barry Ungar,
Anthony Braxton,
Hashim,
June of 44,
Depeche Mode,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
Davy DMX,
ABC,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Wells,
Essential Logic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chris Corsano,
Babytalk,
Junior Murvin,
Malaria!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Buzzcocks,
Unrelated Segments,
Excepter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Golliwogs,
Minutemen,
Scientists,
Zero Boys,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.