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 Swaziland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 Gang of Four to the dance 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rites of Spring,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bang On A Can,
Man Parrish,
UT,
La Düsseldorf,
The Beau Brummels,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Lungfish,
Gang Green,
Pantytec,
Darondo,
Faust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
F. McDonald,
kango's stein massive,
E-Dancer,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
Freddie Wadling,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joy Division,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABC,
CMW,
The Selecter,
Parry Music,
One Last Wish,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Count Five,
Tommy Roe,
John Foxx,
Young Marble Giants,
Supertramp,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Camouflage,
Stetsasonic,
Black Bananas,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
Tom Boy,
Mission of Burma,
Jesper Dahlback,
David Bowie,
The Victims,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Minny Pops,
Bill Wells,
Lou Christie,
The Cowsills,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.