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 Paraguay and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Hasil Adkins to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Talk Talk,
Deepchord,
Donny Hathaway,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
The Remains,
The Toasters,
The Barracudas,
Erasure,
Echospace,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Litter,
UT,
Blancmange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Moon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Sheep,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dawn Penn,
Kas Product,
Sun City Girls,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Los Fastidios,
Scrapy,
Neil Young,
Sarah Menescal,
The Busters,
The Durutti Column,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Black Bananas,
cv313,
Icehouse,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
Connie Case,
Eric Copeland,
The Fire Engines,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
Index,
Mr. Review,
Agitation Free,
Groovy Waters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Lynne,
Cal Tjader,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.