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 Mauritania and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Arab on Radar to the crunk 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drive Like Jehu,
Funky Four + One,
Fear,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cluster,
Stetsasonic,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Brand Nubian,
Wolf Eyes,
Rotary Connection,
Davy DMX,
Black Moon,
The Zeros,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Gastr Del Sol,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
The Evens,
Liliput,
The Grass Roots,
Dennis Brown,
Vladislav Delay,
D'Angelo,
Organ,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Barracudas,
Bluetip,
Maurizio,
H. Thieme,
The Names,
Thompson Twins,
Icehouse,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
The Selecter,
Grauzone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quantec,
Maleditus Sound,
DNA,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dead Boys,
The Cramps,
Whodini,
Sex Pistols,
Derrick May,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Con Funk Shun,
Wings,
Mo-Dettes,
The Index,
Ultra Naté,
Fat Boys,
Intrusion,
FM Einheit,
Ronnie Foster,
Kurtis Blow,
The Trojans,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.