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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vainqueur,
The Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
UT,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Buzzcocks,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nik Kershaw,
The Pretty Things,
Whodini,
Negative Approach,
The Doobie Brothers,
Skriet,
The Stooges,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Joy Division,
The Happenings,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
The Evens,
The Divine Comedy,
Rapeman,
The Remains,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
Guru Guru,
Bluetip,
The Index,
Sun Ra,
Jerry's Kids,
David McCallum,
Henry Cow,
Shoche,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zapp,
Harry Pussy,
Massinfluence,
The Litter,
Brass Construction,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
Severed Heads,
D'Angelo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brick,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Womack,
Basic Channel,
Simply Red,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.