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 Sweden and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 48th St. Collective to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Los Fastidios,
Q65,
Charles Mingus,
The Fugs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sonics,
Dead Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Porter Ricks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxette,
The Monks,
Sister Nancy,
Fela Kuti,
Flash Fearless,
David Axelrod,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Bar-Kays,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultra Naté,
The Black Dice,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Misunderstood,
The Moody Blues,
The Gap Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
Skarface,
Radiopuhelimet,
Juan Atkins,
Alice Coltrane,
MDC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Suburban Knight,
Sparks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Excepter,
Scrapy,
The Fuzztones,
Ludus,
Bad Manners,
Smog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smiths,
Unrelated Segments,
The Seeds,
June of 44,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.