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 Bulgaria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Harmonia to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Zapp,
Toni Rubio,
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Hoover,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
T. Rex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quando Quango,
Radiohead,
Kerri Chandler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Invisible,
Organ,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
Neu!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Slick Rick,
the Germs,
The Red Krayola,
Scion,
David McCallum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
Y Pants,
Pierre Henry,
The Remains,
Icehouse,
Livin' Joy,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Seeds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Bourne,
Graham Central Station,
The Dead C,
The Star Department,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
Scientists,
Warren Ellis,
Tres Demented,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Sneak,
Agent Orange,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.