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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Busters,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
Bobby Byrd,
Laurel Aitken,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Talk Talk,
Barbara Tucker,
The Remains,
The Fire Engines,
Niagra,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Ronnie Foster,
Underground Resistance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Dead Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barry Ungar,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mojo Men,
The Beau Brummels,
Goldenarms,
Soul II Soul,
X-Ray Spex,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
B.T. Express,
Cybotron,
Warren Ellis,
D'Angelo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
Man Parrish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Archie Shepp,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crime,
Jerry's Kids,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Severed Heads,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fall,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
Stetsasonic,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.