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 Uganda and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Nile Rodgers 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 to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
Rapeman,
Barbara Tucker,
The Last Poets,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barry Ungar,
Agent Orange,
June of 44,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maurizio,
Fat Boys,
Deadbeat,
The Smiths,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Sheep,
The Selecter,
The Pop Group,
Brass Construction,
The Golliwogs,
The Mummies,
The Names,
Boredoms,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Schoolly D,
The Music Machine,
John Foxx,
Circle Jerks,
Eddi Front,
Depeche Mode,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
Smog,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Television,
Nils Olav,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
Skriet,
Lyres,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Flipper,
David McCallum,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Motions,
Sun Ra,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
The Modern Lovers,
Skaos,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.