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 Kyrgyzstan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Josef K to the techno 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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Nick Fraelich,
Moss Icon,
JFA,
DNA,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Excepter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cowsills,
Wasted Youth,
Vainqueur,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
E-Dancer,
Ronan,
Lou Christie,
Index,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
Hasil Adkins,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tubeway Army,
Whodini,
Basic Channel,
Heaven 17,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
Bad Manners,
Todd Terry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Rotary Connection,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
Khruangbin,
The Slackers,
Section 25,
The Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
Thompson Twins,
Bob Dylan,
The Skatalites,
Ponytail,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stiv Bators,
Piero Umiliani,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kas Product,
Warsaw,
The Moleskins,
PIL,
The Golliwogs,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.