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 San Marino and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Albert Ayler to the jazz 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '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 John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Finger,
Maleditus Sound,
This Heat,
The Index,
Bronski Beat,
Gong,
Fluxion,
Todd Terry,
Second Layer,
The Cramps,
EPMD,
Mandrill,
U.S. Maple,
Funky Four + One,
10cc,
Smog,
Mad Mike,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
Pussy Galore,
A Certain Ratio,
Scrapy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rekid,
Jeff Mills,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Five Americans,
Funkadelic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Pantaleimon,
Gang of Four,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fela Kuti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The J.B.'s,
Henry Cow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jerry's Kids,
Das Ding,
Talk Talk,
T. Rex,
Hoover,
The Buckinghams,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Al Stewart,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül,
Franke,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Carl Craig,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.