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 South Sudan and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 One Last Wish to the funk 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yazoo,
Funkadelic,
The Divine Comedy,
Freddie Wadling,
Siglo XX,
the Bar-Kays,
Sixth Finger,
David McCallum,
Half Japanese,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
New Order,
Toni Rubio,
Marvin Gaye,
Supertramp,
The Residents,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alison Limerick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Qualms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Trumans Water,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visage,
Japan,
Roxy Music,
The Slackers,
Minnie Riperton,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
cv313,
Ronnie Foster,
X-101,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Style,
Yusef Lateef,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Deepchord,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ossler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Bananas,
Ornette Coleman,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Black Sheep,
Piero Umiliani,
Cybotron,
The Stooges,
Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.