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 Slovenia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet 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 Franke to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
Symarip,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun City Girls,
The Martian,
Liliput,
Duran Duran,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Eli Mardock,
Adolescents,
Warsaw,
Archie Shepp,
Rites of Spring,
Rod Modell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Newcleus,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Animal Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Ludus,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cluster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
Mission of Burma,
Pierre Henry,
Japan,
Alton Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
Whodini,
Outsiders,
K-Klass,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Kinks,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.