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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb 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 Nirvana to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare,
World's Most,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bluetip,
Jacques Brel,
Boredoms,
Leonard Cohen,
Freddie Wadling,
The Angels of Light,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minor Threat,
The Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Siglo XX,
Radiohead,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
A Certain Ratio,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
the Bar-Kays,
Iggy Pop,
Y Pants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABC,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Todd Rundgren,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ohio Players,
Pierre Henry,
The Gladiators,
The Red Krayola,
Crispian St. Peters,
Babytalk,
Mission of Burma,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pagans,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Index,
The Modern Lovers,
the Association,
Gichy Dan,
a-ha,
Gong,
Public Image Ltd.,
Neil Young,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Althea and Donna,
Eddi Front,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arcadia,
Steve Hackett,
Juan Atkins,
Warsaw,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.