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 Andorra and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
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 synthesizer 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 Amon Düül to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Hoover,
Maleditus Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun City Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Knickerbockers,
Quantec,
Eurythmics,
The Dirtbombs,
Todd Rundgren,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
Bobby Womack,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Residents,
Anthony Braxton,
X-Ray Spex,
Supertramp,
Kayak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yaz,
Pussy Galore,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Janne Schatter,
Schoolly D,
Sparks,
Skriet,
Massinfluence,
Arcadia,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
Susan Cadogan,
Joy Division,
Nik Kershaw,
the Germs,
The Sonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alton Ellis,
The Slackers,
Connie Case,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lebanon Hanover,
Howard Jones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ice-T,
Lalann,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.