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 Tuvalu and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bar-Kays to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smoke,
FM Einheit,
Slave,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sonic Youth,
Pole,
June of 44,
Mandrill,
Vainqueur,
Black Flag,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dirtbombs,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
Mo-Dettes,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
Jesper Dahlback,
H. Thieme,
Basic Channel,
Davy DMX,
Angry Samoans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Model 500,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Count Five,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Sheep,
Yellowson,
The Residents,
Excepter,
Marc Almond,
Gang Starr,
The Moleskins,
These Immortal Souls,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
The Beau Brummels,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiohead,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Human League,
The Mojo Men,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sex Pistols,
Lyres,
Sexual Harrassment,
Saccharine Trust,
Toni Rubio,
The Evens,
Gong,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Invisible,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.