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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Guru Guru,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deepchord,
Slick Rick,
Joyce Sims,
the Sonics,
Carl Craig,
Sun City Girls,
Nico,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Can,
Erykah Badu,
Sugar Minott,
Delta 5,
Hot Snakes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Young Marble Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Juan Atkins,
The Fall,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Unwound,
The Gap Band,
Japan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mandrill,
Peter and Kerry,
The Pretty Things,
Andrew Hill,
Drexciya,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soulsonic Force,
Sight & Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
Make Up,
Soft Machine,
Visage,
Spandau Ballet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Grey Daturas,
Oblivians,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ludus,
Don Cherry,
Wally Richardson,
The Saints,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
World's Most,
Duran Duran,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
Funkadelic,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.