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 Belize and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gang Green to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Roxy Music,
The Moleskins,
The Happenings,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Invisible,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül II,
F. McDonald,
The Gories,
Kas Product,
Graham Central Station,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry,
Grey Daturas,
The Walker Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Ice-T,
Soft Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Tomorrow,
Joe Finger,
Lightning Bolt,
Peter & Gordon,
Trumans Water,
Delta 5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Sherman,
The Index,
Dual Sessions,
UT,
Gang of Four,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The United States of America,
Khruangbin,
Sound Behaviour,
The Pretty Things,
Livin' Joy,
The Kinks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers,
Terrestrial Tones,
a-ha,
Oneida,
Boredoms,
John Holt,
Robert Hood,
Ronnie Foster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Duran Duran,
Gerry Rafferty,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.