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 Iraq and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gabor Szabo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Motorama,
The Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
The Evens,
The Angels of Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
Alton Ellis,
David McCallum,
The Star Department,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra,
Eve St. Jones,
Smog,
New York Dolls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Surgeon,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Near,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Mr. Review,
Chris Corsano,
Colin Newman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soft Machine,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
The Fire Engines,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cure,
Gang of Four,
Joy Division,
Brick,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sonic Youth,
Ituana,
Peter & Gordon,
Dawn Penn,
John Holt,
Neu!,
Rod Modell,
Inner City,
Livin' Joy,
Nick Fraelich,
Iggy Pop,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.