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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Andrew Hill to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Parry Music,
Outsiders,
The Fall,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Index,
Bobby Womack,
The Busters,
Warsaw,
Glenn Branca,
Sonic Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Max Romeo,
Freddie Wadling,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barclay James Harvest,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
48th St. Collective,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moby Grape,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry's Kids,
Duran Duran,
Anakelly,
Robert Görl,
Dark Day,
Das Ding,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Make Up,
Suicide,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Terry,
The Remains,
The Standells,
Fugazi,
The Gladiators,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skaos,
Deadbeat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
Mo-Dettes,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Simply Red,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.