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 Morocco and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Aural Exciters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Scott Walker,
Neu!,
Rosa Yemen,
Sällskapet,
The Busters,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Moleskins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Organ,
Easy Going,
Suicide,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
UT,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fugs,
The Selecter,
Simply Red,
The Buckinghams,
Saccharine Trust,
Pylon,
The Happenings,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Lyres,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eli Mardock,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Hood,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smoke,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Q and Not U,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ohio Players,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Jawbox,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aloha Tigers,
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Enemy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nick Fraelich,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moody Blues,
The Invisible,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül,
Brick,
The Toasters,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.