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 Venezuela and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Rosa Yemen to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Peter & Gordon,
Quantec,
CMW,
Chris & Cosey,
Shoche,
Derrick May,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Lou Christie,
Pharoah Sanders,
Franke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soul II Soul,
Bauhaus,
Sight & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
The Vogues,
Crooked Eye,
Nico,
The Index,
Sixth Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Y Pants,
The J.B.'s,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pierre Henry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Whodini,
The Fall,
Sun City Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crash Course in Science,
Index,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ludus,
Black Pus,
David Bowie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Wyatt,
Altered Images,
Cameo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.