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 New Zealand and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yaz 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mark Hollis,
David McCallum,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marine Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Television,
Pussy Galore,
The Stooges,
Skriet,
Soul Sonic Force,
FM Einheit,
June of 44,
Donny Hathaway,
Bluetip,
The Gladiators,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tres Demented,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Isaac Hayes,
Joey Negro,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ossler,
Yazoo,
Trumans Water,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Happenings,
Tears for Fears,
Ronnie Foster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fugs,
Fad Gadget,
Faust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
KRS-One,
The Wake,
Nik Kershaw,
Dave Gahan,
Sight & Sound,
The Move,
Byron Stingily,
Silicon Teens,
The Gories,
JFA,
Soul II Soul,
Pierre Henry,
Buzzcocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Bobby Byrd,
Fugazi,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.