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 Samoa and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 David Bowie 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 AZ 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Tommy Roe,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fuzztones,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Malaria!,
ABC,
Monolake,
Whodini,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Marshall Jefferson,
Subhumans,
Ponytail,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
Boz Scaggs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Unwound,
Soul II Soul,
Little Man,
Ohio Players,
Gang of Four,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tubeway Army,
Hashim,
Neu!,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
Eli Mardock,
Silicon Teens,
Kas Product,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Divine Comedy,
Stetsasonic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Juan Atkins,
Nick Fraelich,
Mission of Burma,
The Golliwogs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Peter & Gordon,
Banda Bassotti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MDC,
Godley & Creme,
Pere Ubu,
Accadde A,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Womack,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.