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 Belize and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Arthur Verocai to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Intrusion,
Kas Product,
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hasil Adkins,
Gichy Dan,
Flash Fearless,
Boz Scaggs,
The Seeds,
Adolescents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
MDC,
The Walker Brothers,
John Holt,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scratch Acid,
Alphaville,
Chris Corsano,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
X-Ray Spex,
Banda Bassotti,
The Associates,
The Tremeloes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Barracudas,
Urselle,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Sister Nancy,
Bronski Beat,
Mad Mike,
Country Teasers,
T.S.O.L.,
The Toasters,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Clear Light,
Sparks,
Gang Gang Dance,
kango's stein massive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sixth Finger,
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.