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 Palau and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Detroit Cobras to the techno 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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magma,
One Last Wish,
Audionom,
Joensuu 1685,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Second Layer,
Accadde A,
Smog,
Ralphi Rosario,
FM Einheit,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
The Fire Engines,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
Quantec,
Heaven 17,
Roy Ayers,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
The Human League,
Lungfish,
The Neon Judgement,
Newcleus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marmalade,
Little Man,
Cluster,
Tom Boy,
Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Mo-Dettes,
Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Shuggie Otis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Arab on Radar,
Negative Approach,
Spoonie Gee,
Tropical Tobacco,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bootsy Collins,
This Heat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Au Pairs,
Scratch Acid,
Pole,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.