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 Tonga and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers 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?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amon Düül II,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Wells,
Lucky Dragons,
Godley & Creme,
Masters at Work,
Joyce Sims,
OOIOO,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
New York Dolls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
China Crisis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
X-Ray Spex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Au Pairs,
Soft Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ice-T,
Clear Light,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monks,
The Gun Club,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
Bronski Beat,
Suburban Knight,
Camberwell Now,
Anakelly,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
Judy Mowatt,
Jawbox,
Fugazi,
Kaleidoscope,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Buzzcocks,
Roxette,
Robert Hood,
Groovy Waters,
Blossom Toes,
Fluxion,
Negative Approach,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Section 25,
Crash Course in Science,
The Selecter,
Peter and Kerry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.