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 South Africa 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Kinks,
Moby Grape,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Sonics,
Faust,
The Cramps,
Morten Harket,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Duran Duran,
Mantronix,
Yellowson,
Thee Headcoats,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker,
Drexciya,
Icehouse,
Pantytec,
Nico,
Spandau Ballet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
Terry Callier,
Gregory Isaacs,
Goldenarms,
EPMD,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Smog,
Pagans,
Judy Mowatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Susan Cadogan,
The Count Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Little Man,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Japan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
D'Angelo,
Visage,
The Grass Roots,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slits,
The Standells,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.