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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the punk 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Sound Behaviour,
The Happenings,
Joe Finger,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Franke,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cowsills,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers,
the Swans,
PIL,
Glambeats Corp.,
Schoolly D,
Lou Christie,
Sixth Finger,
The Durutti Column,
Sister Nancy,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
One Last Wish,
The Seeds,
Index,
Pole,
a-ha,
June of 44,
China Crisis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Television,
The Tremeloes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deepchord,
Man Parrish,
Swell Maps,
Deakin,
Nik Kershaw,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eddi Front,
The Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Adolescents,
Janne Schatter,
Model 500,
Black Moon,
The Smoke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Archie Shepp,
Jeff Lynne,
Public Enemy,
Ultra Naté,
Mary Jane Girls,
Main Source,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.