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 Singapore and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
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 mellotron 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 Radio Birdman to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
Peter and Kerry,
Siglo XX,
The Flesh Eaters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alice Coltrane,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter & Gordon,
H. Thieme,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Camouflage,
The Selecter,
Kenny Larkin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arcadia,
The Index,
Don Cherry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mandrill,
Eric Dolphy,
Iggy Pop,
Fatback Band,
Stereo Dub,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Oneida,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Whodini,
Roy Ayers,
Brass Construction,
The Cure,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Buckinghams,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
Graham Central Station,
Skarface,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Surgeon,
the Association,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Michelle Simonal,
Cymande,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tubeway Army,
Sound Behaviour,
Public Enemy,
Dave Gahan,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.