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 Turkey and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Leaves,
The Saints,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barrington Levy,
Trumans Water,
Kayak,
The Motions,
Severed Heads,
Stiv Bators,
Gerry Rafferty,
Duran Duran,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Black Dice,
Don Cherry,
Eli Mardock,
48th St. Collective,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Womack,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thompson Twins,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Near,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rekid,
the Germs,
Roger Hodgson,
Au Pairs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Icehouse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
Popol Vuh,
K-Klass,
B.T. Express,
The Walker Brothers,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
Negative Approach,
Cymande,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Bob Dylan,
Derrick Morgan,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camouflage,
Faust,
Kevin Saunderson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.