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 Montenegro and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The American Breed to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Kinks,
Fela Kuti,
R.M.O.,
Derrick May,
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mad Mike,
Japan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
Moebius,
David McCallum,
Grauzone,
Porter Ricks,
Lalann,
The Wake,
The Standells,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Adolescents,
48th St. Collective,
Pylon,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
In Retrospect,
Bang On A Can,
Scientists,
Rosa Yemen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric Copeland,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Prunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cowsills,
The Vogues,
Urselle,
Echospace,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Blossom Toes,
John Cale,
The Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
The Slackers,
Gang of Four,
Wolf Eyes,
Desert Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Severed Heads,
Essential Logic,
Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
Anthony Braxton,
The Red Krayola,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.