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 United Kingdom and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Curtis Mayfield to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Fraelich,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magazine,
Marvin Gaye,
The Raincoats,
Technova,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ludus,
Erasure,
Pussy Galore,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
Brothers Johnson,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
Donny Hathaway,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Bang On A Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Judy Mowatt,
Scott Walker,
the Swans,
OOIOO,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
Roger Hodgson,
Byron Stingily,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
The Trojans,
Sound Behaviour,
EPMD,
Eurythmics,
Dawn Penn,
Parry Music,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pop Group,
Andrew Hill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Remains,
The Slits,
Stereo Dub,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hot Snakes,
K-Klass,
The Dead C,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.