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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kinks to the electroclash 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Hood,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gap Band,
The Angels of Light,
Charles Mingus,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soulsonic Force,
Groovy Waters,
Barrington Levy,
Toni Rubio,
Harmonia,
The Moody Blues,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun City Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Faraquet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mojo Men,
Basic Channel,
Eddi Front,
The Selecter,
Pantaleimon,
the Bar-Kays,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Country Teasers,
Cybotron,
The Misunderstood,
David Bowie,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Last Poets,
Barbara Tucker,
The Zeros,
Chris & Cosey,
Anakelly,
Trumans Water,
The Mummies,
Whodini,
the Swans,
Spoonie Gee,
Infiniti,
Porter Ricks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fugs,
Henry Cow,
Radio Birdman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Niagra,
Sight & Sound,
Dark Day,
Pet Shop Boys,
Model 500,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.