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 Ukraine and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Funkadelic to the rock 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Piero Umiliani,
Shoche,
Charles Mingus,
Livin' Joy,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
Neil Young,
Junior Murvin,
Blancmange,
a-ha,
cv313,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Davy DMX,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
Absolute Body Control,
Ken Boothe,
Malaria!,
CMW,
Babytalk,
Pylon,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan,
Talk Talk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Cale,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Marvin Gaye,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalann,
John Holt,
Rod Modell,
Rotary Connection,
Rhythm & Sound,
June Days,
Ultravox,
Maurizio,
Wally Richardson,
Moss Icon,
Lyres,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sound Behaviour,
The Remains,
Con Funk Shun,
Alison Limerick,
Rekid,
Boredoms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Television,
Soft Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.