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 Switzerland and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 The Selecter to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid 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?
Harmonia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Malaria!,
MDC,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scientists,
Frankie Knuckles,
UT,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pop Group,
Mantronix,
Desert Stars,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
Camouflage,
Animal Collective,
The Sound,
Masters at Work,
Agitation Free,
The Tremeloes,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dawn Penn,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scion,
The J.B.'s,
The Associates,
Janne Schatter,
Babytalk,
Archie Shepp,
Swans,
Alton Ellis,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cure,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
Isaac Hayes,
The Young Rascals,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
The Saints,
Qualms,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Wyatt,
Moby Grape,
Cluster,
The United States of America,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.