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 San Marino and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funky Four + One to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
D'Angelo,
Glenn Branca,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra,
Colin Newman,
Todd Terry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronnie Foster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minny Pops,
The Mojo Men,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Infiniti,
Aloha Tigers,
Rod Modell,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fuzztones,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
Patti Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Slits,
Kurtis Blow,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Suburban Knight,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultravox,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Joensuu 1685,
Panda Bear,
Deepchord,
Janne Schatter,
The Victims,
Jeru the Damaja,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skarface,
Morten Harket,
Peter & Gordon,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
Joe Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T. Rex,
Mars,
The Music Machine,
Barbara Tucker,
The Seeds,
The Index,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.