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 Congo and from Sao Paulo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Average White Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Make Up,
The Young Rascals,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
John Cale,
Sight & Sound,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Silicon Teens,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Visage,
Scrapy,
The Toasters,
Skarface,
Anthony Braxton,
Index,
Bang On A Can,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Byrd,
Terry Callier,
Frankie Knuckles,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
Maurizio,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
The Offenders,
Audionom,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
Rufus Thomas,
Second Layer,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacques Brel,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fortunes,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Derrick Morgan,
Hashim,
The Durutti Column,
The Birthday Party,
Fad Gadget,
Pierre Henry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barry Ungar,
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doors,
The New Christs,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Nico,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.