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 Saudi Arabia 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the grime 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra,
James White and The Blacks,
Reuben Wilson,
Blake Baxter,
Minny Pops,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nico,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül,
Crime,
Agent Orange,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Todd Terry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
The Fall,
Ponytail,
Crooked Eye,
Yellowson,
Grauzone,
R.M.O.,
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
B.T. Express,
Scratch Acid,
The Tremeloes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
Little Man,
Black Flag,
The Dave Clark Five,
Motorama,
Public Enemy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Patti Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Letta Mbulu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Magma,
The Buckinghams,
Gang of Four,
Absolute Body Control,
Marc Almond,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.