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 Grenada and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum 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 Michelle Simonal to the disco 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Fatback Band,
Sam Rivers,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drexciya,
Judy Mowatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Golliwogs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Starr,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kurtis Blow,
The J.B.'s,
Masters at Work,
The Smiths,
Half Japanese,
Tomorrow,
Excepter,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
Clear Light,
Ken Boothe,
Audionom,
cv313,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dark Day,
The Smoke,
Yaz,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Con Funk Shun,
Visage,
Pussy Galore,
Kenny Larkin,
Absolute Body Control,
Khruangbin,
Johnny Clarke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Offenders,
Jeff Lynne,
Archie Shepp,
Loose Ends,
Roger Hodgson,
Public Enemy,
The Real Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Gabor Szabo,
Moebius,
Bronski Beat,
48th St. Collective,
Main Source,
Smog,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sonics,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.