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 Afghanistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Davy DMX to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bob Dylan,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
DJ Style,
Buzzcocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Susan Cadogan,
Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
The Seeds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skarface,
Amon Düül II,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rotary Connection,
Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
The Litter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MC5,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gladiators,
Joe Finger,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nation of Ulysses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Saints,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra,
Technova,
Boredoms,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Absolute Body Control,
Gong,
New Age Steppers,
Henry Cow,
Zero Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Tommy Roe,
The Smiths,
Y Pants,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nico,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerri Chandler,
Mad Mike,
Amazonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.