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 Norway and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 Smog to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
The Cramps,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sparks,
Boz Scaggs,
Wings,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy Collins,
June Days,
Angry Samoans,
Yaz,
The Dirtbombs,
Kurtis Blow,
Desert Stars,
Don Cherry,
Suburban Knight,
Interpol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deakin,
The Buckinghams,
Max Romeo,
Rapeman,
The Human League,
China Crisis,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
Sixth Finger,
Tears for Fears,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick May,
Morten Harket,
Kayak,
Rotary Connection,
EPMD,
Con Funk Shun,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott Heron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Knickerbockers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crime,
Amon Düül,
D'Angelo,
Alison Limerick,
The Sound,
Brick,
Bobby Womack,
Qualms,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultravox,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Youth Brigade,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.