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 Oman and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Kerri Chandler to the techno 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Freddie Wadling,
The Real Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sound,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABC,
Whodini,
Babytalk,
Silicon Teens,
Nik Kershaw,
Crime,
Magma,
Mo-Dettes,
Eddi Front,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Rundgren,
Gastr Del Sol,
Josef K,
Joe Finger,
The Fugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Invisible,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Associates,
Faraquet,
Mars,
Joe Smooth,
the Bar-Kays,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dead Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
The Red Krayola,
The Star Department,
Suicide,
June Days,
Eli Mardock,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Section 25,
Joy Division,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sonics,
Ituana,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mad Mike,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Japan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ponytail,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.