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 Brunei and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Shadows of Knight to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins 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?
K-Klass,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Rufus Thomas,
Shuggie Otis,
Oneida,
Wire,
Harmonia,
The Happenings,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aaron Thompson,
Susan Cadogan,
Scott Walker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swell Maps,
Al Stewart,
Roxy Music,
The Golliwogs,
Jawbox,
Simply Red,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
Henry Cow,
The Gap Band,
The Seeds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Pretty Things,
Lyres,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mantronix,
Crime,
Monks,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fat Boys,
Lou Christie,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
The Mummies,
Sight & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dorothy Ashby,
kango's stein massive,
Make Up,
Kas Product,
Radiopuhelimet,
Severed Heads,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eyeless In Gaza,
These Immortal Souls,
The Victims,
Pierre Henry,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.